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THE 



LIFE, EULOGY, 



AMD 



GREAT ORATIONS 



OF 



DANIEL WEBSTER, 



3--</^-? 



TWENTY-SIXTH THOUSAND. 



NEW-YOKK: 

C. McKEB, 89 NASSAU STKEET, SUN BUILDINGS. 

WHOLESALE AGENTS: 

NEW-YORK: ROSS, JONES & TOUSEY, DEXTER & BROTHERS. 

BOSTON: FREDRICK PARKER, FETRIDGE & CO. 

PHILADELPHIA: ZIEBER & CO. 

CHICAGO: MELLON & CO. 

1855. 






Entered .according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 

Little, Brown and CoiiPANY, 

ra the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



COlSfTENTS. 



Page 
LIFE OF DANIEL WEBSTER— By Louis Gaylord Clark, . 3 

EULOGY ON DANIEL WEBSTER, 59 

ORATIONS— ADAMS AND JEFFERSON, 73 

FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW-ENGLAND, 95 

BUNKER-HILL MONUMENT, 123 

SPEECH OF MR. HAYNE, 137 

REPLY TO HAYNE, . 171 



TO THE 

YOUNG MEN OF AMERICA, . 

IN WHOSE COMMAKD AND TR03T 

IS COMMITTED XnE HONOR AXD DESTINY OF THIS REPUBMO, 

THIS VOLUME, 

EMBODYING AND TRANSMITTING THE 

LOFTY FXOQUENCE AND SUBLIME PATRIOTISM 

OF 

DANIEL ^VEBSTER, 

Is jtvfsprctfulli) ScDiratrir bn tfjc ^Jufilfsljcr, 

who sincerely trusts that ihey will adopt 
AS A MOTTO, AND STANDARD OF ACTION, 

THAT IMMORTAL SEKTBN'OE, 

" Liberty and Union, now and forever, 
one and inseparable." 



LIFE OF 

DANIEL WEBSTER 






BY LOUIS GAYLORD CLARK. 



It has been suggested to the publisher of the ensuing speeches 
of the great departed statesman Daniel Webster — undeniably 
the most important and eloquent of all his public efforts, remarkable 
and memorable as they were — that they should be accompanied 
by a sketch of his life, and some familiar account of his public 
and private career. 

In compliance with the suggestion, the following brief narrative 
has been prepared. The extraordinary sale which the speeches 
have already received, justifies the publisher in making the work 
as complete as possible. By the kind permission of the publishers 
of Harper's Magazine, the publisher has been enabled to avail 
himself of an elaborate article in that work for December last, 
condensed soon after the death of its illustrious subject, from the 
elaborate columns of the journals of the day, extended discourses 
from the public pulpits, addresses of members of the bar, and asso- 
ciative or legislative eulogies. 

The following account of Mr. Webster's family, himself and his 
consecutive career, is condensed from an able article in a Boston 
journal, written by one who had long known Mr. Webster inti- 
mately. 

"Daniel Webster was the son of Ebenezer Webster, of 
Salisbury, New Hampshire. He was born in that part of Salisbury 
now called Boscawen, on the eighteenth of January, 1782. His 
father was a captain in the revolutionary army, and became subse- 
quently, though not bred a lawyer, one of the Judges of the Court of 
Common Pleas. He received his academical education at Exeter and 



Portsmouth. He began his college studies at the latter seminary in 
1797, and receive:! his degree in 1801. During the intervals of study 
he taught a school. After leaving college, he tookcharge of an 
academy at Fryeburg, in Maine. He then applied himself to the 
study of the law, first with Mr. Thompson, a lawyer of SaUsbury, 
and next with Christopher Gore, of Boston, who afterwards became 
Governor of Massachusetts. He came to Boston in 1804, and was 
admitted to the bar in the following year. 

"Mr. Webster's father at this time strongly urged him to 
take the office of Clerk of the Court of Common Pleas in New 
Hampshire, which was tendered for his acceptance ; but the son 
fortunately resisted the temptation — for such it then appeared in 
the eyes of every body. He remained at Boscawen till his father's 
death, in 1807. He then removed to Portsmouth, New Hamp- 
shire, where he formed an acquaintance with Dexter, Story, Mason, 
and other men, who became eminent at the bar and in public life. 
Mr. Webster was chosen Representative to Congress in November, 
1812, and took his first seat in Congress at the extra session in 
May, 1813. 

On the 10th of June, in that year, he delivered his first speech in 
that body, on the subject of the Orders in Council, and there he 
gave clear manifestations of those extraordinary powers of mind 
which his subsequent career brought out into so full a develop- 
ment. 

•'He was re-elected to Congress in 1814, and in December 1815, 
removed to Boston, where he devoted himself to legal practice. His 
reputation as a lawyer had now risen high, and for five or six years 
he had little to do with politics. In 1820 he served as an Elector 
of President, and in 1821 as a member of the State Convention 
which revised the Constitution of Massachusetts. In 1822 he was 
elected to Congress from the Boston district, and immediately 
became a leading member of that body. His speech on Greek 
Independence was delivered in 1823. 

"Mr. Webster was re-elected to Congress from Boston in 1824. 



He delivered the Address on laying the corner stone of the Bunker 
Hill Monument in 1825. He was again chosen to Congress in 
1826, and in the following year he was elected a Senator of the 
United States by the Legislature of Massachusetts. In the same 
year he delivered his Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson. 

" Mr. Webster's ' Great Speech,' as it is deservedly called — great, 
both for its intrinsic qualities and for its effects upon the public 
mind — was delivered in the Senate -on the 26th of January 1830, 
in the debate on what are called ' Foot's Resolutions.' Next to 
the Constitution itself, this speech is esteemed to be the most correct 
and ample definition of the true powers and functions of the Fed- 
eral government. 

" Mr. Webster continued in the Senate of the United States 
till 1840. When Van Buren was elected President, in 1836, Mr. 
Webster received the electoral vote of Massachusetts. On the 
election of General Harrison, in 1840, Mr. Webster was appointed 
Secretary of State. The sudden death of the President and the 
accession of Mr. Tyler, caused a breaking up of the cabinet, all the 
members of which, except Mr. Webster, resigned their places. The 
result of his remaining in office was the Ashburton treaty — nego- 
ciated by Mr. Webster in 1842, which settled the question of the 
north-eastern boundary, and at once put an end to a long protracted 
and threatening dispute with Great Britian. 

" Shortly after this, Mr. Webster resigned the office of Secretary 
of State, and was again chosen Senator from Massachusetts in 
March, 1845. On the death of General Taylor, in July, 1850, and 
the accession of Mr. Fillmore to the Presidency, he was again 
appointed Secretary of State, and in this office he died at Marsh- 
field, on the morning of the 24th of October, 1852." 

Such, in brief but comprehensive compass, are the geneology and 
prominent points in the public life of Mr. Webster. A considera- 
tion of his character as a public man, gathered partly from the 
quarters we have indicated, and partly from original sources, will 
not be uninteresting to our readers : 



" It seems to have been universally conceded, since Mr. Web- 
ster's death, that his ambition throughout life, or at least throughout 
his entire public career, was to serve his country ; and to illustrate 
and perpetuate the great charter of our liberties, of which he was 
alike the ablest expounder and defender. 

" And yet look at him — for the lesson is not unworthy of heedful 
consideration. He was a mere private individual ; the son of a 
poor, struggling New Hampshire farmer ; who rose to the highest 
in the state (for the President himself was not before him) 
by the force of his own mind. His public life comprised a period 
of nearly thirty-three years, during which he never shrunk from the 
declaration of his principles, nor from the full discharge of all his 
responsibilities. He never failed his country in the hour of her 
need. "He was independent, self-poised, steadfast, unmovable. 
You could calculate him, like a planet." His life was a series of 
great acts for great purposes. With the peace of 1815, his 
most distinguished public labors began ; " and thenceforward," 
remarks one of his ablest contemporaries, " he devoted himself, the 
ardor of his youth, the energies of his manhood, and the autumnal 
wisdom of his riper years, to the affairs of legislation and 
diplomacy, preserving "the peace, keeping unsullied the honor, 
establishing the boundaries, and vindicating the neutral rights of 
his country, and laying its foundations deep and sure. On all 
measures, in fine, affecting his country, he has inscribed his opinions, 
and left the traces of his hand. By some felicity of his personal life, 
by some deep or beautiful word, by some service of his own, or 
some commemoration of the services of others, the Past gives 
us back his name, and will pass it on and on, to the farthest 
Future." 

Webster never betrayed the mere politician, either in his public 
acts or in his speeches. Their tone was always elevated. No 
undignified appeal, no merely personal reflection upon an ojiponent, 
no unparliamentary allusion, ever escaped his lips, in the hottest 
strife of debate ; nor, during his whole career in the councils of ihs 



nation, was he ever, " called to order," by the presiding officer of 

either body. 

As a Man, Daniel Webster was esteemed and loved by all 
who knew him, and loved and esteemed the most by those who 
knew him most intimately. While his unaffected, natural, innate 
dignity never deserted him, he was nevertheless in heart and 
manner, as simple and unostentatious as a child. The kindliness 
and tenderness of his heart were seen and felt by all who came 
within the charmed circle of his intimacy. He was, as we have 
said, a country boy in early life ; and it is eminently true, and 
especially worthy of remark, that the associations of the country 
were always uppermost in his bosom, when happily liberated from 
affairs of government and the state. He was always happy, if we 
may take the concurrent testimony of his oldest friends and of 
himself, when he could escape from the worrying cares and anxieties 
of professional or of public life, to the retired and homely pursuits 
of his Marshfield farm. The most genial humor pervaded all he 
did and said, while thus engaged. 

" He loved," (says a forceful but evidently very warped writer, 
who, from some difference of opinion upon a much-agitated subject, , 
regarded him with no partial eye,) " he loved out-door and manly 
sports— boating, fishing, fowling. He was fond of nature, loving 
New Hampshire's mountain scenery. He had started small and 
poor, had risen great and high, and honorably had fought his way 
alone. He was a farmer, and and took a countryman's delight in 
country things ; in loads of hay, in trees ; and the noble Indian 
corn — in monstrous swine. He had a patriarch's love of sheep — 
choice breeds thereof he had. He took delight ih. cows— short- 
horned Durnhams, Herefordshire s, Aryshires, Alderneys. He tilled 
paternal acres with his own oxen. He loved to give the kine 
fodder. It was pleasant to hear his talk of oxen. And but three 
days before he left the earth, too ill to visit them, his oxen, lowing, 
came to see their sick lord, and as he stood in his door, his great 
cattle were driven up, that he might smell theic healthy breath, 



8 

and look his last on those broad, generous faces, that were never 
false to him. He was a friendly man : all along the shore there 
were plain men that loved him — whom he also loved ; a good 
neighbor, a good townsman — 

" ' Lofty and sour to those that loved him not, 
But to tliosc men that sought him, sweet as summer.' " 

And with all his greatness, we must be permitted to regard him 
m the light that we love best to regard the departed statesman. 
We love to read the simple, cordial, honest, letters, that he addressed 
to his farmer-overseer, at Franklin, and those to old friends, in 
which he described the struggles of his early life in the country ; in 
which humor sometimes vies with pathos, until you both laugh and 
weep at the felicity of the combination. What, for example, could 
be more simple, more manly, more touching, than the following 
extract ? The words of the closing paragraph seem to have sobbed 
as they dropped from the pen : 

"My Father, Ebenezer Webster !— born at Ivingston, in the 
lower part of the State, in 1739— the handsomest man I ever saw, 
except my brother Ezekiel, who appeared to me, and so does he 
now seem to me, the very finest human form that ever I laid eyes on. 
I saw him in his coffin — a white forehead — a tinged cheek — a com- 
plexion as clear as heavenly light ! But where am I straying ? 

•' The grave has closed upon him, as it has on all my brothers 
and sisters. We shall soon be all together. But this is melancholy 
— and I leave it. Dear, dear kindred blood, how I love you all ! 

" This fair field is before me— I could see a lamb on any part 
of it. I have flowed it, and raked it, and hoed it, but I never 
mowed it. Somehow, I could never learn to hang a scythe ! I had 
not wit enough. INIy brother Joe used to say that my father sent 
me to college in order to make me equal to the rest of the children ! 
Of a hot day in July — it must have been one of the last years of 
Washmgton's administration — I was making hay, with my father, 
just where I now see a remaining elm tree, about the middle of the 



9 

afternoon. The Hon. Abiel Foster, M. C, who lived in Canter- 
bury, six miles off; called at the house, and came into the field to see 
my father. He was a worthy man, college-learned, and had been 
a minister, but was not a person of any considerable natural powers. 
My fa.ther was his friend and Supporter. He talked a while in 
the field, and went on his way. When he was gone, my father 
called me to him, and we sat down beneath the elm, on a hay-cock. 
He said, ' My son, that is a worthy man, he is a member of Con- 
gress ; he goes to Philadelphia, and gets six dollars a day, while I 
toil here. It is because he had an education, which I never had. 
If I had had his early education, I should have been in Philadel- 
phia in his place. I came near it, as it was ; but I missed it, and 
now I must work here.' ' My dear father,' said I, ' you shall not 
work ; my brother and I will work for you, and wear our hands 
out, and you shall rest' — and I remember to have cried, and I cry 
now at the recollection. ' My child,' said he, * it is of no impor- 
tance to me ; I now live but for my children ; I could not give 
your elder brother the advantages of knowledge, but I can do 
something for you. Exert yourself — improve your opportunities — 
learn — learn — and when I am gone, you will not need to go through 
the hardships which I have undergone, and which have made me 
an old man before my time.' The next May he took me to Exeter, 
to the Philips Exeter Academy — ^placed me under the tuition of 

its excellent preceptor. Dr. Benjamin Abbott, still living." 
* * * * ' # * * 

We pass to an illustration or two of Mr.' Webster's oratorical 
manner, and a few anecdotes of Mr. Webster, connected with his 
private life and public performances. No one who has ever seen 
Mr. Webster, will need any aid to memory in recalling his personal 
appearance, his pre-eminently marked features; the commanding 
the height, large head and ample forehead ; the large, black, solemn. 
cavernous eyes, under the pent-house of the overhanging brows 
the firm, compressed lips, and broad chest — all these can never 
be forgotten. 



10 

We heard Mr. Webster, for the first time, on the platform of the 
new Exchange in Wall-street, which was crowded with people ; 
but his voice in tones rather harsh, we thought, than musical, could 
be heard to the extremest limit of the vast crowd ; and well do we 
remember his hesitation in the choice of a word, which he seemed 
determined to have, and which he did have at last, and used with 
a most happy effect. •' We want," said he, speaking of the neces- 
sity for a national bank, "an institution that shall — an institution 
that has — an odor of nationality about it ;" and the applause that 
followed, attested the force and felicitousness of the figure. 

A friend recently mentioned to the writer another instance 
which happily illustrates this peculiarity of Mr. Webster, when 
speaking extemporaneously. He seldom would make use of a word 
or words which did not altogether satisfy him ; when that did 
happen, he would strike from his remarks, by a short pause, the 
word he had first used, and substitute another. If that did not 
altogether please him, he would employ still another, and so on, 
until he had obtained just the word he wanted, and that would be 
uttered with such emphasis as he alone could give to language. 

"A year or two ago," continued the gentleman to whom we 
have alluded, I heard him speak in the Supreme Court at Wash- 
ington, on the Great Wheeling Bridge case. In the course of his 
argument, he alluded to a large sum of money involved in that 
case, which had been shut up for many years in the vaults of the 
Bank of Georgia : 

" ' Now, your Honors,' said Mr. Webster, * we want the Bank 
to come out — to show its hand — to render up— to give forth — to 

DISGORGE ! ' 

" Any one," said our informant, " who has ever heard Mr. 
Webster speak emphatically, will not be surprised when I say that the 
word 'disgorge,' as uttered by him on the occasion I have mentioned, 
weighed about twelve pounds !" 

Many readers of this sketch will perhaps remember hearing Mr. 
Webster in this city, in that celebrated public dinner-speech of 



11 

»is, wherein he paid that magnificent tribute to the genius and 
•haractor of Alexander Hamilton. There is a circumstance 
connected with one of the finest passages in this speech, which, in 
in the opinion of the writer, deserves to be recorded. " You could 
have heard" — ^remarks a distinguished friend and correspondent of 
the writer hereof, who had the pleasure of sitting very near Mr. 
Webster on the occasion alluded to — " you could have heard the 
falling of a pin any where in the crowded assemblage, while Mr. 
Webster was speaking. When he came to advert to Hamilton's 
influence in creating and establishing a system of public credit, at a 
time when it was so much needed, he illustrated his subject with that 
memorable figure : ' He smote the rock of the national resources, 
and abundant streams of revenue gushed forth:' and as Mr. 
Webster said this, he brought his right hand down upon the table, to 
enforce the simile ; and in so doing he happened to hit a wine-glass, 
which broke, and slightly cut his hand : and as the blood oozed from 
the wound, he slowly wrapped a white napkin around it, and then 
finished the figure : ' He touched the dead corpse of the Public 
Credit, and it rose upon its feet ! " 

It is the belief of our informant that the last simile " sprung from 
the occasion,'* and was suggested by the white napkin and the oozing 
blood. Be this as it may, for mingled force and appositeness, the 
figure has rarely if ever been excelled, even by the great orator 
who used it. 

Undoubtedly Mr. Webster's personal presence was one great 
element of his matchless oratory. " When he rose and came down 
to the edge of the platform, with a small roll of manuscript in his 
hand, at the celebration of the completion of Bunker-Hill Monu- 
ment," said a distinguished jurist of this city, " and cast a glance 
at the sea of two hundred thousand faces turned up to his from 
the amphitheatre and below, then looked up to the monument 
towering above him into the bright, clear, air, he looked the orator, 
if ever earthly mortal bespoke it ! " 

As immediately connected with one of the most magnificent 



12 

speeches ever made in any public body by any statesman in the 
world — a speech which is the " crowning glory " of our present 
collection — we present, from the excellent work by Mr. Charles W. 
March, entitled '• Daniel Webster and his contemporaries" a very 
vivid sketch of the scene in the Senate Chamber, (during and at 
the conclusion of the great orator's " Great Speech " in reply to Mr. 
Havne, of South Carolina.) It is authentically related of Mr. 
Webster, that as he was walking down the centre-walk in the 
Capitol Park, the day after Mr. Hayne's speech, a friend said to 
him : 

" Mr. Webster, that will be a difficult speech to ansvyer." 
" We shall see," said Mr. Webster, taking off his hat, and passing 
his hand over his gi'eat broad forehead. " We — shall — see — sir, to- 
moiTOw ; we shall see to-morrow, Sir ! " 

And they did see — and the country — and the world." 
It was on Tuesday, January the 26lh, 1830,— a day to be here- 
after forever memorable in Senatorial annals, — that the Senate 
resumed the consideration of Foote's Resolution. There was 
never before in the city, an occasion of so much excitement. To 
witness this great intellectual contest, multitudes of strangers 
iiad for two or three days previous been rushing into the city, and 
the hotels overflowed. As early as nine o'clock of this morning, 
crowds poured into the Capitol, in hot haste; at 12 o'clock, the 
hour of meeting, the Senate-Chamber, — its galleries, floor and even 
lobbies, — was filled to its utmost capacity. The very stairways 
were dark with men, who hung on to one another, like bees in a 
swarm. 

The House of Representatives was early deserted. An adjourn- 
ment would have hardly made it emptier. The speaker, it is true, 
retained his chair, but no business of moment was, or could be, 
attended to. Members all rushed in to hear Mr. Webster, and no 
call of the House or other Parliamentary proceedings could compel 
them back. The floor of the Senate was so densely crowed, that 
persons once in cotild not get out, nor change their -position ; in the 



13 

rear of the Vice-Presidential chair, the crowd was particularly 
intense. Dixon H. Lewis, then a Representative from Alabama, 
became wedged in here. From his enormous size, it was impossi- 
ble for him to move without displacing a vast portion of the 
multitude. Unfortunately too, for him, he was jammed in directly 
behind the chair of the Vice-President, where he could not see, and 
hardly hear, the speaker. By slow and laborious effort — pausing 
occasionally to breathe — he gained one of the windows, which, 
constructed of painted glass, flank the chair of the Vice-President 
on either side. Here he paused, unable to make more hea'dway. 
But determined to see Mr. Webster as he spoke, with his knife he 
made a large hole in one of the panes of glass ; which is still visible 
as he made it. Many were so placed, as not to be able to see the 
speaker at all. 

The courtesy of Senators accorded to the fairer sex room on 
the floor — the most gallant of them, their own seats. The gay 
bonnets and brilliant dresses threw a varied and picturesque beauty 
over the scene, softenino; and embelishing it. 

Seldom, if ever, has speaker in this or any other country had 
more powerful incentives to exertion ; a subject, the determination 
of which involved the most important interests, and even duration, 
of the republic ; competitors, unequalled in reputation, ability, or 
position ; a name to make still more glorious, or lose forever ; and 
an audience, comprising not only persons of this country most 
eminent in intellectual greatness, but representatives of other 
nations, where the art of eloquence had flourished for ages. All 
the soldier seeks in opportunity was nere. 

Mr. Webster perceived, and felt equal to, the destinies of the 
moment. The very greatness of the hazard exhilarated him. His 
spirits rose with the occasion. He awaited the time of onset with 
a stern and impatient joy. He felt, like the war-horse of the 
Scriptures, who "paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strengtli : 
who goeth on to meet the armed men, — who sayeth among the 
trumpets, Ha, ha ! and who smelleth the battle afar off; the tiiunder 
of the captains and the shouting." 



14 

A confidence in his own resources, springing from no vain e?timate 
of his power, but the legitimate oflspring of previous severe mental 
discipline sustained and excited him. He had guaged his opponents, 
his subject and himself. 

He was too, at this period, in the very prime of manhood. He 
had reached middle age — an era in the life of man, when the 
faculties, physical or intellectual, may be supposejd to attain their 
fullest organization, and most perfect development. Whatever 
there was in him of intellectual energy and vitality, the occasion, 
his full life and high ambition, might well bring forth. 

He never rose on an ordinary occasion to address an ordinary 
audience more self-possessed. There was no tremulousness in his 
voice nor manner ; nothing buried, nothing simulated. The calm- 
ness of sup^erior strength was visible everywhere ; in countenance, 
voice, and bearing. A deep seated conviction of the extraordinary 
character of the emergency, and of his ability to control it, seemed 
to possess him wholly. If an observer, more than ordinarily keen- 
sighted, detected at times something like exultation in his eye, he 
presumed it sprang from the excitement of the moment, and the 

>.nlicipation of victory. 

The anxiety to hear the speech was so intense, irrepressible, and 
universal, that no sooner had the Vice-President assumed the chair, 
than a motion was made and unanimously carried, to postpone the 
ordinary preliminaries of Senatorial action, and to take up immedi- 
ately the consideration of the resolution. 

Mr. Webster rose and addressed the Senate. His exordium is 
known by heart, everywhere : " Mr. President, when the mariner 
has been tossed, for many days, in thick weather, and on an 
unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of the first pause in the 
storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and ascer- 
tain how far the elements have driven him from his true course. 
Let us imitate this prudence ; and before we float further, on^ the 
waves of this debate, refer to the point from which we departed, 
that we may, at least, be able to form some conjecture where we 
now are. I ask for the reading of the resolution." 



15 

There wanted no more to enchain the attention. There was a 
spontaneous, though silent, expression of eager approbation, as the 
orator concluded these opening remarks. And while the clerk read 
the resolution, many attempted the impossibility of getting nearer 
the speaker. Every head was incHned closer towards him, every 
ear turned in the direction of his voice — and that deep, sudden, 
mysterious silence followed, which always attends fulness of emotion. 
From the sea of upturned faces before him, the orator beheld his 
thoughts reflected as from a mirror. The varying countenance, 
the suffused eye, the earnest smile, and ever- attentive look 
assured him of his audience's entire sympathy. If among his 
hearers there were those who affected at first an indifference to his 
glowing thoughts and fervent periods, the difficult mask was soon 
laid aside, and profound, undisguised, devoted attention followed. In 
the earlier part of his speech, one of his principal opponents seemed 
deeply engrossed in the careful perusal of a newspaper he held 
before his face ; but this, on nearer approach, proved to be upside 
do^n. In truth, all, sooner or later, voluntarily, or in spite of 
themselves, were wholly carried away by the eloquence of the 
orator. 

One of the happiest retorts ever made in a forensic controversy 
was his application of Hayne's comparison of the ghost of the 
" murdered coalition " to the ghost of Banquo : 

" Sir, the honorable member was not, for other reasons, entirely 
happy in his allusions to the story of Banquo's murder, and Ban- 
quo's ghost. It was not, I think, the friends, but the enemies of the 
murdered Banquo, at whose bidding his spirit would not down. 
The honorable gentleman is fresh in his reading of the English 
classics, and can put me right if I am wrong ; but, according to 
my poor recollection, it was at those who had begun with caresses, 
and ended with foul and treacherous murder, that the gory locks 
were shaken ! The ghost of Banquo, like that of Hamlet, was an 
honest ghost. It disturbed no innocent man. It knew where its 
appearance would strike terror, and who would cry out, a ghost ! It 



16 

made itself visible in the right quarter, and compelled the guilty, 
and the conscience-smitten, and none others, to start, with, 

'"Pr'ythee, see there! behold ! look! lo. 
If I stand here, I saw him ! ' 

Their eyeballs were seared (was it not so, sir ?) who had thought 
to shield themselves, by concealing their own hand, and laying the 
imputation of the crime on a low and hireling agency in wicked- 
ness ; who had vainly attempted to stifle the workings of their 
own coward consciences, by ejaculating, through white lips and 
chattering teeth, " Thou canst not say I did it ! " I have misread 
the great poet if those who had no way partaken in the deed of 
death, either found that they were, or feared that they should he, 
pushed from their stools by the ghost of the slain, or exclaimed, to 
a spectre created by their own fears, and their own remorse, 
" Avaunt and quit our sight ! 

There was a smile of appreciation upon the faces all around, at this 
most felicitous use of another's illustration — this turning one's own 
witness against him — in which Col. Hayne good humoredly joined. 

As the orator carried out the moral of Macbeth, and proved by 
the example of that deep-thinking, intellectual, but insanely ambi- 
tious character, how little of substantial good or permanent power 
was to be secured by a devious and unblessed policy, he turned his 
eye with a significance of expression, full of prophetic revelation 
upon the Vice-President, reminding him that those who had foully 
removed Banquo had placed 

" A ban-en sceptre in their gripe, 
Thence, to be wrenched by an unlineal hand, 
No son of theirs succeeding." 

Every eye of the whole audience followed the direction of his own 
— and witnessed the changing countenance and visible agitation of 
Mr. Calhoun. 

Surely, no prediction ever met a more rapid or fuller confirm- 
ation, even to the very manner in which the disaster was accom- 



17 

plished. Within a few brief months, the political fortunes of the 
Vice-President, at this moment seemingly on the very point of 
culmination, had sunk so low, there were none so poor to do bJm 
reverence. 

Whether for a moment a presentiment of the approaching crisis 
in his fate, forced upon his mind by the manner and language of 
the speaker, cast a gloom over his countenance Or some other 
cause, it is impossible to say ; but his brow grew dark, nor for 
some time did his features recover their usual impassibility. 

The allusion nettled him, — the more as he could not but witness 
the effect it produced upon others — and made him restless. He 
seemed to seek an opportunity to break in upon the speaker ; and 
later in the day, as Mr. Webster was exposing the gross and ludi- 
crous inconsistencies of South Carolina politicians, upon the subject 
of Internal Improvements, he interrupted him with some eagerness : 
" Does the chair understand the gentleman from Massachusetts to 
say that the person now occupying the chair of the Senate has 
changed his opinions on this subject ? " To this, Mr. Webster 
replied immediately, and good-naturedly : " From nothing ever said 
to me, sir, have I had reason to know of any change in the opin- 
ions of the person filling the chair of the Senate. If such change 
has taken place, I regret it." * 

Those who had doubted Mr. Webster's ability to cope with and 
overcome his opponents were fully satisfied of their error before 
he had proceeded far in his speech. Their fears soon took another 



• Mr. Calhoun's interruption was un-Parliamentary, or rather, un-Senatorial. The 
Vice-President is not a member of the Senate, and has no voice in it save for the 
preservation of order and enforcement of the rules. He cannot participate otherwise 
either in the debates or proceedings. He is simply the presiding oflEicer of the Senate 
— having no vote in its affairs save on a tie. Had Mr. "Webster made a direct, 
unmistakable allusion to him, Mr. Calhoon still could have replied through a friendly 
Senator, or the press. On this occasion he Tvas too much excited to attend to the 
etiquette of his position. His feelings and his interest in the question made him 
forgetful of his duty. 
2 



18 

direction. When they heard his sentences of powerful thought, 
towering in accumulative gi-andeur, one above the other, as if the 
orator strove, Titan like, to reach the very heavens themselves, 
they were giddy with an apprehension that he would break down 
in his flight. They dared not believe, that genius, learning, any 
intellectual endowment however uncommon, that was simply 
mortal, could sustain itself long in a career seemingly so perilous. 
They feared an Icarian fall. 

Ah ! who can ever forget, that was present to hear, the tremen- 
dous, the awful burst of eloquence with which the orator spoke of 
the Old Bay State ! or the tones of deep pathos in which the 
words were pronounced : 

" Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachu- 
setts. There she is — t)ehold her, and judge for yourselves. There 
is her history : the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is 
secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and 
Bunker Hill— and there they will remain forever. The bones of 
her. sons, falling in the great struggle for independence, now lie 
mingled with the soil of every State, from New England to Georgia ; 
and there they will lie forever. And, sir, where American Liberty 
raised its first voice ; and where its youth was nurtured and sus- 
tained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood and full of 
its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it— if party 
strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it— if folly and 
madness — if uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint — 
shall succeed to separate it from that Union, by which alone its 
existence is made sure, it will stand in the end, by the side of that 



Sometime later than this, after a rupture had taken place between Gen. Jackson 
and himself, Mr. Forsytli, of Georgia, on being interrupted by some (as he thought) 
uncalled for question or remark, rebuked him in an emphatic manner for violation 
of oflRcial etiquette. Mr. Van Burcn, who ousted and succeeded liim, always remained 
silent, placid, imperturbable in his scat, however personal or severe the attack upon 
him ; — and no Vice-President since bis day has ever attempted to interfere with the 
discussions of the Senate. 



19 

cradle in which its infancy was rocked : it will stretch forth its 

arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who 

gather round it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the 

proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its 

origin." 

What New Endand heart was there but throbbed with vehe- 

ment, tumultuous, irrepressible emotion, as he dwelt upon New 

England sufferings, New England struggles, and New England 

« 
triumphs, during the war of the Revolution ? There was scarcely 

a dry eye in the Senate ; all hearts were overcome ; grave judges 
and men grown old in dignified life turned aside their heads, to 
conceal the evidences of their emotion.* 

In one corner of the gallery was clustered a group of Massachu- 
setts men. They had hung from the first moment upon the words 
of the speaker, with feelings variously but always warmly excited, 
deepening in intensity as he proceeded. At first, while the orator 
was going through his exordium, they held their breath and hid 
their faces, mindful of the savage attack upon him and New Eng- 
land, and the fearful odds against him, her champion ; — as he went 
deeper into his speech, they felt easier ; when he turned Hayne's 
flank on Banquo's ghost, they breathed freer and deeper. But 
now, as he alluded to Massachusetts, their feelings were strained 
to the highest tension ; and when the orator, concluding his enco- 
mium upon the land of their birth, turned, intentionally, or otherwise, 
his burning eye fell upon them — they shed tears like girls. 

No one who was not present can understand the excitement of 
the scene. No one, who was, can give an adequate description o^ 
it. No word-painting can convey the deep, intense enthusiasm, 
— the reverential attention, of that vast assembly — nor limner 
transfer to canvass their earnest, eager, awe-struck countenances. 



* Gen. Wasliington said that tlie New England troops came better clothed into 
the field, were as orderly there, and fought as well, if not better, than any troops on 
the continent. 



20 

Though language were as subtile and flexible as thought, it still 
Avould be impossible to represent the full idea of the scene. There 
is something intangible in an emotion, which cannot be transferred. 
The nicer shades of feeling elude pursuit. Every description, 
therefore, of the occasion, seems to the naiTator himself most tame, 
spiritless, unjust. 

Much of the instantaneous effect of the speech arose, of course, 
from the orator's delivery — the tones of his voice, his countenance, 
and manner.* These die mostly wim the occasion that calls them 
forth — the impression is lost in the attempt at transmission from 
one mind to another. They can only be described in general 
terms. " Of the effectiveness of Mr. Webster's manner, in many 
parts," says Mr. Everett, " it would be in vain to attempt to give 
any one not present the faintest idea. It has been my fortune to hear 
some of the ablest speeches of the greatest living orators on both 
sides of the water, but I must confess, I never heard anything 
which so completely realized my conception of what Demosthenes 
was when he delivered the Oration for the Crown." 

Assuredly, Kean nor Kemble, nor any other masterly delineator 
of the human passions ever produced a more powerful impression 
upon an audience, or swayed so completely their hearts. This 
was acting — not to the life, but life itself. 

* The personal appearance of Mr. "Webster has been a theme of frequent discus- 
sion. He was at the time this speech Tras delivered twenty years younger than 
now. Time had not thinned nor bleached his hair : it was as dark as the raven's 
plumage, surmounting his massive brow, in ample folds. His eye, always dark and 
deep-set, enkindled by some glowing tliought, shone from beneath his sombre, over- 
hanging brow like lights, in tlie blackness of night, from a sepulchre. It was such a 
countenance as Salvator Rosa delighted to paint. 

Ko one understood, or understands, better that Mr. "Webster the philosophy of 
drees : what a powerful auxiliary it is to speech and manner, when harmonizing 
with them. On this occasion he appeared in a blue coat and buff vest, — the Revo- 
lutionary colors of buff and blue ; — with a white cravat, a costume, than which none 
is more becoming to his face and expression. This courtly particularity of dress adds 
i;o little to the influeuce cf his manner and appearance. 



21 

No one ever looked the orator, as he did — " os humerosque deo 
similis," in form and feature how Uke a god. His countenance 
spake no less audibly than his words. His manner gave new force 
to his language. As he stood swaying his right arm, like a huge 
tilt-hammer, up and down, his swarthy countenance lighted up with 
excitement, he appeared amid the smoke, the fire, the thunder of 
his eloquence, like Vulcan in his armory forging thoughts for the 
Gods ! 

The human face never wore an expression of more withering, 
relentless scorn, than when the orator replied to Hayne's allusion 
to the "murdered coalition." "It is," said Mr.^W., "the very 
cast-off slough of a polluted and shameless press. Incapable of 
further mischief, it lies in the sewer, lifeless and despised. It is not 
now, sir, in the power of the honorable member to give it dignity 
or decency, by attempting to elevate it, and introduce it into the 
Senate. He cannot change it from what it is — an object of general 
disgust and scorn. On the contrary, the contact, if he choose to 
touch it, is more likely to drag him down, down to the place 
where it lies itself" He looked, as he spoke these word^, as if the 
thing he alluded to was too mean for scorn itself — and the sharp, 
stino-ins enunciation made the words still more withering. The 
audience seemed relieved, — so crushing was the expression of his 
face which they held on to, as 'twere, spell-bound,— when he turned 
to other topics. 

The good-natured yet provoking irony with which he described 
the imaginary though life-like scene of direct collision between the 
marshalled aiTay of South Carolina under Gen. Hayne on the one 
side, and the officers of the United States on the other, nettled his 
opponent even more than his severer satire ; it seemed so ridicu- 
lously true. Col. Hayne enquired, with some degree of emotion, if 
the gentleman from Massachusetts intended any personal imputa- 
tion by such remarks ? To which Mn Webster replied, with 
perfect good humor : " Assuredly not— just the reverse." 

The variety of incident during the speech, and the rapid fluctu- 



22 

ation of passions, kept the audience in continual expectation, and 
ceaseless agitation. There was no chord of the lieart the orator 
did not strike, as with a master-hand. The speech was a complete 
drama of comic and pathetic scenes ; one varied excitement ; 
laughter and tears gaining alternate victory. 

A gi-eat portion of the speech is strictly argumentative ; an 
exposition of constitutional law. But grave as such portion 
necessarily is, severely logical, abounding in no fancy or episode, 
it engrossed throughout the undivided attention of every intelligent 
hearer. Abstractions, under the glowing genius of the orator, 
acquired a beauty, a vitality, a power to thrill the blood and 
enkindle the affections, awakening into earnest activity many a 
dormant faculty. His ponderous syllables had an energy, a vehe- 
mence of meaning in them that fascinated, while they startled. His 
thoughts in their statuesque beauty merely would have gained all 
critical judgment ; but he realized the antique fable, and warmed the 
marble into life. There was a sense of power in his language, — 
of power withheld and suggestive of still greater power, — that 
subdued, as by a spell of mystery, the hearts of all. For power, 
whether intellectual or physical, produces in its earnest develop- 
ment a feeling closely allied to awe. It was never more felt than 
on this occasion. It had entire mastery. The sex, which is said 
to love it best and abuse it most, seemed as much or more can-ied 
away that the sterner one. Many who had entered the hall with 
light, gay thoughts, anticipating at most a pleasurable excitement, 
soon became deeply interested in the speaker and his subject — sur- 
rendered him their entire heart ; and, when the speech was over, and 
they left the hall, it was with sadder, perhaps, but, surely, with far 
more elevated and ennobling emotions. 

The exulting rush of feeling with which he went through the 
peroration threw a glow over his countenance, like inspiration. 
Eye, brow, each feature, every line of the face seemed touched, as 
with a celestial i'lve. All gazed as at something more than human. 
So Moses might have appeared to the awe-struck Israelites as he 



23 

emerged from the dark clouds and thick smoke of Sinai, his face 
all radiant with the breath of divinity ! 

The swell and roll of his voice struck upon the ears of the spell- 
bound audience, in deep and melodious cadence, as waves upon 
the shore of the " far resounding " sea. The Miltonic grandeur of 
his words was the fit expression of his thought and raised his 
hearers up to his theme. His voice, exerted to its utmost power, 
penetrated every recess or corner of the Senate — penetrated even 
the ante-rooms and stairways as he pronounced in deepest tones of 
pathos these words of solemn significance : " When my eyes shall 
be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not 
see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once 
glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ! on a 
land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal 
blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the 
gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored 
throughout the earth, still full high advanced,* its arms and trophies 
streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased nor polluted, 
not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable 
interrogatory as, " What is all this worth ? " Nor those other 
words of delusion and folly. Liberty first, and Union afterwards; 
but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, bla- 



• Mr. "Webster may have had in his mind, when speaking of the gorgeous ensign 
of the Republic, Milton's description of the imperial banner in the lower regions 
floating across the immensity of space : 

" "Who forthwith from the glittering stafif unfurl'd 
The imperial ensign ; yrhich, full high advanced 
Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind. 
With gems and golden lustre rich imblaz'd. 
Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds : " 

And this in its turn is borrowed from, or suggested by, Tasso's description of the 
oanner of the Crusades, when first unfolded in Palestine — which the inquisitive reader 
may find, if he choose, in "Jerusalem Delivered. 



24 

zing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the 
land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sen- 
timent, dear to every American heart, " Liberty and Union, now 

AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE ! " 



The speech was over, but the tones of the orator still lingered 
upon the ear, and the audience, unconscious of the close, retained 
their positions. The agitated countenance, the heaving breast, the 
suffused eye attested the continued influence of the spell upon 
them. Hands that in the excitement of the moment had sought 
each other, still remained closed in an unconscious grasp. Eye 
still turned to eye, to receive and repay mutual sympathy ; — and 
everywhere around seemed forgetfulness of all but the orator's 
presence and words. 

When the Vice-President, hastening to dissolve the spell, angrily 
called to order ! order ! There never was a deeper stillness — not a 
movement, not a gesture had been made, — not a whisper uttered — 
order ! Silence could almost have heard itself, it was so superna- 
turally still. The feeling was too overpowering, to allow expression 
by voice or hand. It was as if one was in a trance, all motion 
paralyzed. 

But the descending hammer of the Chair awoke them, with a 
start — and with one universal, long-drawn, deep breath, with which 
the overcharged heart seeks relief, — the crowded assembly broke 
up and departed. 



The New England men walked down Pennsylvania avenue that 
day, after the speech, with a firmer step and bolder air — " pride in 
their port, defiance in their eye." You would have sworn they 
had gi'own some inches taller in a few hours' time. They devoured 
the way, in their stride. They looked every one in the face they 
met, fearing no contradiction. The/ swarmed in the streets, 
naving become miraculously multitudinous. They clustered in 
parties and fought the scene over one hundred times that night. 



25 

Their elation was the greater, by reaction, It knew no limits, or 
choice of expression. Not one of them but felt he had gained a 
personal victory. Not one, who was not ready to exclaim, with 
gushing eyes, in the fulness of gratitude, " Thank God, I too am a 
Yankee ! " 

In the evening General Jackson held a levee at the White House. 
It was known, in advance, that Mr. Webster would attend it, and 
hardly had the hospitable doors of the house been thrown open, 
when the crowd that had filled the Senate chamber in the morning 
rushed in and occupied the rooms. Persons a little more tardy in 
arriving found it almost impossible to get in, such a crowd oppressed 
the entrance. 

Before this evening, the General had been the observed of all 
observers. His military and personal reputation, official position, 
gallant bearing, and courteous manners, had secured him great and 
merited popularity. His receptions were always gladly attended 
by large numbers — to whom he was himself the object of 
attraction. 

But on this occasion, the room in which he received his company 
was deserted, as soon as courtesy to the President permitted. Mr. 
Webster, it was whispered, was in the East Room, and thither the 
whole mass hurried. 

He stood almost in the centre of the room, hemmed in by eager 
crowds, from whom there was no escape, all pressing to get nearer 
to him. He seemed but little exhausted by the intellectual exertion 
of the day, severe as it had been. The flush of excitement still 
lingered and played upon his countenance, gilding ana beautifying 
it, like the setting sun its accompanying clouds. 

All were eager to get a sight at him. Some stood on tip-toe, and 
some even mounted the chairs of the room. Many were presented 
to him. The dense crowd, entering and retiring, moved round 
him, renewing the order of their ingression and egression, 
continually. One would ask his neighbor : " Where, which is 
Webster ? " — " There, don't you see him — that dark, swarthy man. 



26 

with a great deep eye and heavy brow — that's Webster." No one 
was obliged to make a second inquiry. 

In another part of the room was Col. Hayne. He too, had had 
his day of triumph, and received congratulation. His friends even 
now contended that the contest was but a drawn-battle, no full 
victory having been achieved on either side. There was nothing 
in bis own appearance this evening to indicate the mortification 
of defeat. With others, he went up and complimented Mr. 
Webster on his brilliant effort* ; and no one, ignorant of the past 
struggle, could have supposed that they had late been engaged 
in such fierce rivalry. 

Mr. Webster is declared by all who knew him intimately, to be 
in private conversation one of the most entertaining and instructive 
of companions. He had a great fund of anecdotes of men and 
events, which he used to relate with inimitable effect. A biogra- 
pher mentions, among others, the following : 

" One night, before raikoads were built, he was forced to make a 
journey by private conveyance from Baltimore to Washington. 
The man that drove the wagon, was such an ill-looking fellow, and 
told so many stories of robberies and murders, that, before they had 
gone far, Mr. Webster was somewhat alarmed. At last the wagon 
stopped, in the midst of a dense wood, when the man, turning sud- 
denly round to his passenger, exclaimed fiercely, ' Now, sir, tell me 
who you are ? ' Mr. Webster replied, in a faltering voice, and 
ready to spring from the vehicle, ' I am Daniel Webster, member 
of Congress, from Massachusetts ! ' ' What, rejoined the driver, 
grasping him warmly by the hand, * are you Webster ! Thank God ! 
thank God ! You were such an ugly chap, that I took you for a 
highwayman.' This is the substance of the story, but the precise 



•It was said at the time, that, as CoL Hayne approached Mr. "Webster to tender his 
congratulations, the latter accosted him T\iUi the usual courtesy, " How are you, 
this evening, Col. Hayne ? " and that CoL Hayne replied, good-humorcdiy," "None 
the better for you, sir? " 



27 

words used by Mr. Webster himself, can not be recalled, nor the 
immitable bonhommie with which it was related by him." 

When entertaining a party at dinner or holding a levee, Mr. 
Webster always looked the gentleman superbly ; when out on a 
fishing excursion, he could not be taken for anything but an angler ; 
and when on a shooting frolic, he was a genuine rustic Nimrod. 
And hereby hangs an incident. He was once tramping over the 
Marshfield meadows, shooting ducks, when he encountered a couple 
of Boston sporting snobs, who happened to be in trouble just 
then about crossing a bog. Not knowing Mr. Webster, and believ- 
ing him to be strong enough to help them over the water, they 
begged to be conveyed to a dry }X)int upon his back. The request 
was of course complied with, and after the cockneys had paid him 
a quarter of a dollar each for his trouble, they inquired if ' Old 
Webster was at home,' for as they had had poor luck in shooting, 
they would honor him with a call. Mr. Webster replied, ' that the 
gentleman alluded to was not at home just then, but would be as 
soon as he could walk to the house,' and added, that he would be 
glad to see them at dinner.' As may be presumed, the cockneys 
were never seen to cross the threshold of ' Old Webster.' " 

"Two hours before he was to appear before the most magnificent 
of audiences, on the occasion of his last speech i-n New York, at 
Niblo's saloon, Mr. Webster was telling stories at his dinner-table, 
as unconcernedly as if he was only intending to take his usual 
nap. On being questioned as to what he proposed to say, he 
remarked as lollows : ' I am going to be excessively learned and 
classical, and shall talk much about the older citizens of Greece. 
When I make my appearance in Broadway to-morrow, people will 
accost me thus — Good morning Mr. Webster. Recently from 
Greece, 1 understand. How did you leave Mr. Pericles and 
Mr. Aristophanes ?' 

The following is one among the many New Hampshire anecdotes 
which Mr. Webster was in the habit of occasionally narrating to 
his friends. It is given in nearly the narrator's own words : 



28 

"Soon after commencing the practice of my profession at Ports* 
mouth, I was v/ailsd on by an old acquaintance of my father's, 
resident in an adjacent county, who wisiied to engage my profes- 
sional services. Some years previous, he had rented a farm, with 
the clear understanding that he could purchase it, after the expi- 
ration of his lease, for one thousand dollars. Finding the soil pro- 
ductive, he soon determined to own it, and as he laid aside money 
for the purchase, he was prompted to improve what he felt certain 
he would possess. But his landlord finding the property greatly 
increased in value, coolly refused to receive the one thousand 
dollars, when in due time it was presented ; and when his extortion- 
ate demand of double that sum was refused, he at once brought an 
action of ejectment. The man had but the one thousand dollars, 
and an unblemished reputation, yet I willingly undertook the 
case. 

" The opening argument of the plaintiffs attorney left me little 
ground for hope. He stated that he could prove that my client 
hired the farm, but there was not a woaxl in the lease about the 
sale, nor was there a woj'd spoken about the sale when the 
lease was signed, as he should prove by a witness. In short, his 
was a clear case, and I left the court-room at dinner time with 
feeble hopes of success. By chance, I sat at the table next a 
newly-commissioned militia officer, and a brother-lawyer began to 
joke him about his lack of martial knowledge ; ' Indeed,' he jocosely 

remarked, 'you should write down the orders, and get old W 

to beat them into your sconce, as I saw him this morning, with a 

paper in his hand, teaching something to young M in the court 

house entry." 

"Can it be, I thought, that old W , the plaintiff in the case, 

was instructing young M , who was his reliable witness ? 

" After dinner, the court was re-opened, and- M was put on 

the stand. He was examined by the plaintiffs counsel, and cer- 
tainly told a clear, plain story, repudiating all knowledge of any 
agreement to sell. When he had concluded, the opposite counsel 



29 

with a triumphant glance turned to me, and askoi^l me if I was 
satisfied? 'Not quite/ I rephed. 

" I had noticed a piece of paper protruding from M 's pocket, 

and hastily approachmg him. I seized it before he had the least 
idea of my intention. ' Now/ 1 asked. * tell me if this paper does 
not detail the story you have so clearly told, and is it not false ? ' 
The witness hung his head with shame ; and when the paper was 
found to be wnat I nad supposed, and in the very hand 

writing of old VV . he lost his case at once. Nay, there was 

such a storm of indignation against him, that he soon removed to 
the West. 

" Years afterwards, visiting New Hampshire, I was the guest of 
my professional brethren at a public dinner ; and toward the close 
of the festivities, I was asked if I would solve a great doubt by 
answering a question. ' Certainly,' ' Well then, Mr. Webster, 

we have often wondered how vou knew what was in M 's 

pocket.' " 

Of Mr, Webster's life it may be said, " that nothing became it 
more " than the manner in which he consigned it to " the God 

O 

who gave it." A lover and a habitual reader of the Bible, he 
derived in his dying hours his chiefest support from the divine 
consolations which its teachings afford. The "rod and the staff" 
of the Tilmighty were his support, as he entered upon the valley of 
the shadow of death. He who never while living spake or thought, 
save with awful reverence, of the power and presence of God, 
went calmly to meet his Maker in the world beyond the grave. 
His profound intellect was clear, serene, unclouded to the last, 
triumphing over all the infirmities of physical decay. In the 
sententious and beautiful words of another, " We see, in his 
deportment at the hour of his last great trial, the graceful submis- 
sion of a truly majestic nature. We behold a lofty and 
commanding intellect becoming obedient to the summons which 
ordered him from a world he loved but too well, forgetting; none of 
the duties, the demands or the proprieties of mortal existence about 



30 

to close. His life did not end as the lives of most end, with 
thoughts of self merely, or struggles to forget self. He recognized 
the condition of those friends he was about to leave behind him, 
with a singular mixture of consideration, tenderness, and collected- 
ness of soul. He was not only cool and self-possessed himself, his 
vigorous spirit even buoyed up and animated those who surrounded 
him in his last moments. He recognized his own condition in the 
same spirit of philosophic and self-sustaining contemplation. He 
looked steadfastly in the face of the grim messenger, and calmly 
held out the hand of recognition as he approached. He accompa- 
nied him without a shudder within the gates of eternity, which 
swung wide to receive him. He passed the threshold with a 
tranquil majesty, casting upon the woi'ld a last look which was at 
once his calmest and noblest." Like the sun itself, he " shone 
largest at his setting." 

His resting place is where it should be ; in the fields whicn he has 
tilled ; near the haunts alike of his hours of sublime contemplation, 
and his brighter and more genial moods ; within sight of the 
window from which he looked, in the pauses of his study, upon the 
white tomb-stones which he had placed over his family — all but one 
gone before ! 

" It is all over ! The last struggle is past ; the struggle, the strife, 
the anxiety, the pain, the turmoil of life is over : the tale is told, 
and finished, and ended. It is told and done ; and the seal of death 
is set upon it. Henceforth that gi-eat life, marked at every step ! 
chronicled in journals ; waited on by crowds ; told to the whole 
country by telegraphic tongues of flames — that great life shall be 
but a history, a biography, ' a tale told in an evening tent.' In the 
tents of life it shall long be recited ; but no word shall reach the 
ear of that dead sleeper by the ocean shore. Fitly will he rest 
there. Like the granite rock, like the heaving ocean, was his mind ' 
Let the rock guard his rest : let the ocean sound his dirge ! " 



ILLNESS AND DEATH. 



Mr. Webster died at Marshfield, on Sunday morning, October 
24th, 1852. 

His health as has been intimated, had failed dm'ing the summer 
from his severe public labors and from the progress of an obscure 
disease in the liver of long standing, accelerated, no doubt, by the 
shock which his whole system had received when he was thrown 
from his carriage in the preceding May. He was aware of his decline, 
and watched it with a careful observation ; frequently giving intima- 
tions to those nearest to him of the failure in strenirth which he 
noticed, and of the result which he apprehended must be approach- 
ing. Towards the end of September he seemed, indeed, to rally 
a little ; but it was soon apparent to others, no less than to himself, 
that, as the days passed on, each brought with it some slight proof 
of a gradual decay in his bodily powers and rescources. 

On Sunday evening, October 10, he desired a friend, who was 
sitting with him, to read to him the passage in the ninth chapter of 
St. Mark's Gospel, where the man brings his child to Jesus to be 
cured, and the Saviour tells him, " If thou canst believe, all things 
are possible to him that believeth ; and straightway the father of 
the child cried out, with tears. Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbe- 
lief." " Now," he continued, " turn to the tenth chapter of St. 
John, and read from the verse where it is said, ' Many of the Jews 
believed on him.' " After this he dictated a few lines, and directed 
them to be signed with his name and dated Sunday Evening, Oct. 



32 

10, 1852. '•' This," he then added, " is the inscription to be placed 
on my monument." A few days later, — on the 15th, — he recurred 
to the same subject, and revised and corrected with his own hand 
what he had earlier dictated, so as to make the whole read as 
follows :— 



" Lord, I believe ; help thou 
mine unbeliefl" 



Philosophical 
argument, especially 
that drawn from the vastness of 
the Universe, in comparison with the 
apparent insignificance of this globe, has some- 
times shaken my reason for the faith which is in me ; 
but my heart has always assured and reassured me, that the 
Gospel of Jesus Christ must be a Divine Eeality, The 
Sermon on the Mount cannot be a merely human 
production. This belief enters into the 
very depth of my conscience. 
The whole history of man 
proves it 

Daniel Wkbstbb. 



When he first dictated this inscription, he said to the friend who 
wrote it down — " If I get well, and write a book on Christianity, 
about which we have talked, we can attend more fully to this 
matter. But if I should be taken away suddenly, I do not wish 
to leave any duty of this kind unperformed. I want to leave 
somewhere a declaration of my belief in Christianity. I do not 
wish to go into any doctrinal distinctions in regard to the per- 
son of Jesus but I wish to express my belief in his divine 
mission ; "—solemn and remarkable words, by which it is plain 
that, having given the deliberate testimony of his life to the truth 
of Christianity, as a miraculous revelation of God's will to man 
he desired, though dead, still to bear the same testimony from his 



33 

grave to the same great truth. The monument on which he in- 
tended this striking inscription should be placed, he has elsewhere 
directed should be of " exactly the same size and form " with the 
modest monuments he had already erected, within the same 
inclosure, for his children and for their mother. 

On Tuesday, the 19th of October, he was too feeble to appear at 
the dinner-table, and desired that his son might take his place at 
its head, till he should be able again to go down stairs ; "or," he added, 
" until I give it up to him altogether." That evening was the last 
time his friends had the happiness to see him in his accustomed 
seat at his own hospital fire-side. 

Warned by his increasing debility he had already given some 
directions concerning a final disposition of his worldly affairs ; but 
he now desired that his will might be immediately drawn up in legal 
form, and the next day he dictated a considerable portion of it with 
great precision and a beautiful appropriateness of phraseology. 
Some of its directions are very striking, not only from their import, 
but from the simplicity with which their meaning is set forth : — 

" I wish to be buried," he says, "without the least show or osten- 
tation, but in a manner respectful to my neighbors, whose kindness 
has contributed so much to the happiness of me and mine, and 
for whose prosperity I offer sincere prayers to God." 

After this, every thing relating to his personal concerns is wisely 
and well provided for, and all his immediate kindred tenderly 
remembered. He then goes on : — 

" My servant, William Johnson, is a free man. I bought his 
freedom not long ago for six hundred dollars. No demand is to 
be made upon him for any portion of this sum ; but, so long as''is 
agreeable, I hope he will remain with the family. Monicha 
McCarty, Sarah Smith, and Anna Bean, colored persons, now also, 
and, for a long time, in my service, are all free. They are very 
well-deserving, and whoever comes after me, must be kind to them." 

And then with the usual legal forms, this remarkable and char- 
acteristic document is closed. 
3 



34 

The day when the preparation of* the will was completed — 
Thursday — was one in which Mr. Webster had attended to much 
public business, besides giving his usual careful directions about 
every thing touching his household and his large estate. It was 
intended, therefore, to postpone the final signing and execution of 
that paper until the next morning ; more especially as his forenoons 
were uniformly more comfortable than the later portions of the 
day. But, in the afternoon, his complaint assumed a new and 
more formidable character. Blood was suddenly ejected from his 
stomach. The symptom was decisive. He fixed an intensely 
scrutinizing look upon Dr. Jeffries, — his attending physician and 
personal friend, — and inquired what it was ? He was answered 
that it came from the diseased part. " What is it ? " he repeated 
with the same piercing look, and then, without waiting for a reply, 
added, " That is the enemy ; — if you can conquer that " — he was 
interrupted by a recurrence of the attack, but his mind, it wa? 
obvious, was already made up. He knew that his time must be 
short, and that whatever he had to do must be done quickly. 

He determined, therefore, at once to execute his will. It was 
made ready and brought to him. He ascertained that its provis- 
ions and arrangements were entirely satisfactory to the persons 
most interested in them, and then, having signed it with a larger 
boldness and freedom in the signature than was common to him, 
|ie folded his hands together and said solemnly, " I thank God for 
strength to perform a sensible act." In a full voice, and with a 
most reverential manner he went on and prayed aloud for some 
minutes, ending with the Lord's Prayer, and the ascription, " And 
nowunto God the Father, the Son, and Holy Ghost, be praise 
forever more. Peace on earth, and good will towards men ; " — 
after which, clasping his hands together, as at first, he added, with 
great emphasis, — " That is the happiness — the essence — Good will 
towards men." 

Much exhausted with the effort, he desired all but Dr. Jeffries 
and a favorite colored nurse, who had long been in his service, to 



35 

leave the room, that he might rest. But, before he slept, he said, 
" Doctor you look sober. You think I shall not be here in the 
morning. But I shall. I shall greet the morning light." 

The next forenoon, he repeated a similar assurance to his kind 
and faithful physician, who as he thought, again looked sad, though 
he was only overcome with fatigue and long watching. " Cheer 
up, Doctor — cheer up — I shall not die to-day. You will get me 
along to-day." And so he went on through Friday, giving comfort 
and kind thou2;hts to all who surrounded him. In the course of 
the morning, he attended to the public business that needed imme- 
diate care, and gave directions for every thing about his farm and 
household as usual, and, in the evening sent for the person 
who managed his affairs, and directed him, with more than his 
customary exactness, concerning all arrangements for the next 
day. 

But when the next day — Saturday — came, he felt as he had not felt 
before. He felt that it was his last day. About eight o'clock in 
the morning, therefore, he desired that all in the room should leave 
it, except Doctor Jeffries, who had been his physician for a long 
period, and who had now been in constant attendance on him 
'iving in the house for above a week. During the night Mr. Web- 
ster perceived that he had grown weaker by excessive loss of blood 
from the stomach. He had just suffered afresh in the same way. 
But when he was certain that he was alone with his professional 
adviser, and that no loving ear would be pained by what he should 
say, he spoke in a perfectly clear and even voice, but with much 
solemnity, of manner, and said, "Doctor, you have carried me 
through the night. I think you will get me through the day. I 
shall die to-night." The faithful physician, much moved, said 
after a pause, " You are right. Sir." Mr. Webster then went on . 
— " I wish you, therefore, to send an express to Boston for some 
younger person to be with you. / shall die to night. You are 
exhausted, and must be relieved. Who shall it be ? " Dr. Jeffries 
suggested a professional brother. Dr. J. Mason Warren, adding that 



36 

he was the son of an old and faithful friend of Mr. Webster. Mr 
Webster replied instantly, " Let him be sent for." 

Dr. Jeffries left the room to prepare a note for the purpose, and, 
on returning, found that Mr. Webster had made all the arrange- 
ments necessary for its dispatch, having given minute directions 
who should go ; — what horse and what vehicle he should use ; — 
and what road he should follow ; — where he should take a fresh 
relay ; — and how he should execute his errand on reaching 
the city. He also desired that some provision should be made for 
summoning some other professional friend, if Dr. Warren could not 
be found, or could not come ; and, on being told that this, too, had 
been foreseen and cared for, he seemed much gratified, and said 
emphatically, "Right, right." 

After some repose, he conversed with Mrs. Webster, with his son, 
and with two or three other of the persons nearest and dearest to 
him in life, in the most affectionate and tender manner, not con- 
cealing from them his view of the approach of death, but consol- 
ing them with religious thoughts and assurances, as if support 
were more needful for their hearts than far his own. On different 
occasions, in^ the course of the day, he prayed audibly. Oftener, 
he seemed to be in silent prayer and meditation. But, at all times, 
he was quickly attentive to whatever was doing or needed to 
be done. lie gave detailed orders for the adjustment of whatever 
in his affairs required it, and superintended and arranged every- 
thing for his own departure from life, as if it had been that of 
another person, for whom it was his duty to take the minutest care. 

After nightfall, he received at his bed side each member of his 
family and household, the friends gathered under his roof, and the 
servants, most of whom having been long in his service had 
become to him as affectionate and faithful friends. It was a 
solemn and religious parting, in which, while all around him were 
overwhelmed with sorrow, he preserved his accustomed equanimity, 
speaking to each words of appropriate kindness and consolation 
which they will treasure hereafter among their most precious and 
life-long possessions. 



3T 

During the whole course of his ilhiess, Mr- Webster never spoke 
of his disease or of his sufferings, except in the most general terms, 
or in order to give information to his medical advisers ; but it was 
plain to Dr. Jackson, who was twice called in consultation ; to 
Dr. Warren, who was with him during the last night of his life ; 
and to Dr. Jeffries, who was his constant attendant from the first, 
that he noted and understood everything that related to his condi- 
tion, and its successive changes. His conversation on this, as on 
all other subjects, was perfectly easy and simple ; — the deep tones of 
nis voice remained unchanged ; — his gentleness was uniform ; — and 
tTie expressions of his affection to those who approached him, and 
eren to those who were absent, but who were carefully remembered 
him in messages of kindness, were true, tender, and faithful to the by 
end. No complaint escaped from him ; nor did he show the least 
impatience under his infirmities, or the least relunctance to die. 
He felt the value and the power, of life, and was full of love for 
his home and for all that surrounded him there and made him 
happy. But his submission to the will of God was entire. 
He said, on one occasion, "I shall lie here patiently until 1 
die;" — and he did so. But through those wearisome days, he 
preserved his natural manner in every thing, and maintained, 
without effort, those just and true relations between himself and all 
persons, things, and occurrences about him, which through life had 
marked him so strongly and had given such dignity and pov/er to 
his character. 

From the morning of Saturday, when he had announced to his 
attendant'physician — what nobody, until that time, had intimated — 
that he "should die that night," the whole strength of his gi-eat facul- 
ties seemed to be directed to obtain for him a plain and clear per- 
ception of his onward passage to another world, and of his feelings 
and condition at the precise moment when he should be entering its 
confines. Once, being faint, he asked if he were not then dying ? 
and on being answered that he was not, but that he was near to 
death, he replied simply, " Well ; " as if the frank and exact reply 



38 

were what he had desired to receive. A little later, when his kind 
physician repeated to him that striking text of Scripture, — " Yea, 
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I 
will fear no evil, for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff, they 
comfort me " — he seemed less satisfied, and said, " Yes ; — but the 
fact, the fact I want ; " — desiring to know if he were to regard 
these words as an intimation, that he was already within that dark 
valley. On another occasion, he inquired whether it were 
likely that he should again eject blood from his stomach before 
death, and being told that it was improbable, he asked, "Then 
what shall you do ? " Being answered that he would be supported 
by stimulants, and rendered as easy as possible by the opiates that 
had suited him so well, he inquired, at once, if the stimulant should 
not be given immediately ; anxious again to know if the hand of 
death were not already upon him. And on being told, that it 
would not be then given, he rephed, " When you give it to me, I 
shall know that I may drop off at once." 

Being satisfied on this point, and that he should, therefore, have 

a final warning, he said a moment afterwards, " I will, then, put 

myself in a position to obtain a little repose." In this he was 

successful. He had intervals of rest to the last ; but on rousing 

from them, he showed that he was still intensely anxious to preserve 

his consciousness, and to watch for the moment and act of his 

departure, so as to comprehend it. Awaking from one of these 

slumbers, late in the night, he asked distinctly if he were alive, and 

on being assured that he was, and that his family was collected 

around his bed, he said, in a perfectly natural tone, as if assenting 

to what had been told him, because he himself perceived that it was 

true, " I still live." These were his last coherent and intelligible 

words. At twenty-three minutes before three o'clock, without a 

struggle or a groan, all signs of life ceased to be visible ; his vital 

organs giving away at last so slowly and gradually as to indicate, 

— what every thing during his illness had already shown, — that his 

intellectual and moral faculties still maintained an extraordinary 



39 

mastery amidst the failing resources of his physical constitution. 
And so there passed out of this world one of its great beneficent' 
and controlling spirits. As the sun rose on that quiet Sabbath 
morning the expected, yet dreaded, event was announced as a 
public calamity, first, by the solemn discharge of minute guns, and 
afterwards by the tolling of bells, over a large part of the land — a 
spontaneous outbreak of the general feeling at the loss all had 
suffered. How heavily it fell on the hearts of men in this city, 
where he was best known, and especially what deep gi'ief, mingled 
with bitter recollections of the past and anxious forebodings for 
the future, marked each of the three memorable days, — consecrated 
as no three similar days ever were consecrated among us, to public 
mourning, — may be partly gathered from the records which this 
volume is intended to collect and preserve. The rest — ^little of 
which can be recorded — ^will dwell, among their saddest and most 
sacred thoughts, in the memories of all who shared in the moving, 
services of those solemn occasions, or who gathered around that 
peaceful, seagirt grave, and will be transmitted by them to their 
children, as the warning traditions of a great national sorrow 



THE FUNERAL. 



Friday, October, 29, was the day of Mr. Webster's funeral. 
Boston never before presented — probably never will again present 
— so general an aspect of mourning, and never were there • wit- 
nessed such spontaneous, universal, and deep tokens of feeling 
Most of the shops were closed, as well as the public institutions, 
offices, and markets ; and a large proportion of the city was 
dressed in the habiliments of sorrow. The mourning draperies 
upon many of the buildings, public and private, were rich, elabo- 
rate, and tasteful. Festoons of black and white were almost 
continuous through Washington, Hanover, and other principal 
streets ; and multiplied mottoes, expressing grief and admiration 
were placed upon walls and over door- ways. Flags, prepared with 
inscriptions, and dressed in mourning, were extended across the 
streets. In general the mottoes and inscriptions were extremely 
well chosen and appropriate, and were a proof, not only of the 
estimation in which Mr. Webster was held in Boston, but of the 
high standard of taste and cultivation among its citizens. 

In the multiplicity of these personal an-d spontaneous expressions 
of feeling, it is impossible to describe, or specify any ; but from 
amongst the mottoes, of which more than a hundred were exhibited, 
the following are selected : 

His words of wisdom, with resistless power. 

Have graced our brightest, cheered our darkest hour. 

Thou hast instructed many and thou hast strengthened the weak hands. 

"We've scanned the actions of his daily life and nothing meets our eyes but deed" 

of honor. 



41 

Some when they die, die all. Their mouldering clay is but an emblem of their 

memories. But he has lived. He leaves a ■work behind which will pluck 

the shining age from vulgar time, and give it whole to late 

posterity. , 

Thou art mighty yet Thy spirit walks abroad. 

The great heart of the nation throbs heavily at the portals of his grave. 

Live like patriots I Live like Americans I United all, united now, and united forever. 

Wherever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the transports of patriotism 
Mid liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with his spirit. 

Then this Daniel was preferred above the Presidents and Princes, because 
an excellent spirit was in him. 

Know thou, stranger, to the fame 
Of this much loved, much honored name, 
(For none that knew him need be told,) 
A warmer heart Death ne'er made cold. 

The glory of thy life, like the day of thy death, shall not fail from the remembrance 

of man. 

Between twelve and one — the hour of the funeral at Marshfield 
— minute guns were fired, and the bells of the churches were tolled ; 
from sunrise to sunset guns were fired every fifteen minutes, 
and almost continuously. Similar signs of mourning were heard 
from the hills of the neighboring towns, and along the line of the 
coast. The streets were crowded with citizens and visitors from 
the country, reading the inscriptions and walking through the 
public buildings, all wearing, upon their saddened countenances, 
tokens of sincere sorrow. Though a day of leisure and entire ces- 
sation from labor there, and was no thought of anything but our 
great loss. There were no smiling faces to be seen, and no 
cheerful voices to be heard. 

The funeral solemnities were at Mr. Webster's own residence 
in Marshfield. In conformity with the wish expressed in his will, 
everything was arranged with the utmost simplicity, in the order 
usual in a New England funeral, but private it could not be. In 



42 

addition to the general sense of loss in the lemoval of a great 
leader and a statesman, in whose wisdom and firmness so strong a 
confidence was reposed, there was in many hearts a feeling of per- 
sonal bereavement in the death of a revered and beloved friend ; and 
thus thousands were led to tne spot by a ^vish to honor his memory 
and look once more upon his face. From all quarters, by every 
path, and by every conveyance, great multitudes came together ; 
and the whole number of persons assembled at the hour of noon 
was probably not less than ten or twelve thousand. 

A thoughtful consideration for the feelings of all who were 
present was shown in the arragements of the funeral. In order 
that the wish which all felt, to look for he last time upon the face 
of the illustrious dead, might be gratified without hurry or confusion, 
the body was brought from the library a-t an early hour in the 
morning and placed upon the lawn, in front of the house, beneath 
the open heavens and under a tree which, in its summer foliage, 
was a conspicuous ornament of the spot. The majestic form 
reposed in the familiar garb of life, with more than tlie dignity of 
life in its most imposing moments. Suffering had changed, without 
impairing those noble features. The grandeur of the brow 
was untouched, and the attitude full of strength and peace. For 
more than three hours a constant stream of men and women, of all 
ages, passed on both sides, pausing for a moment to look upon that 
loved and honored form. Parents held their children by the hand, 
bade them contemplate the face of their benefactor, and charged 
them never to lose the memory of that spectacle and that hour. — 
Many dissolved into tears as they turned aside ; and one — a man 
of plain garb and appearance — was heard to make in a subdued 
voice, the striking remark, " Daniel Webster, the world will seem 
lonesome without you." 

The thoughtful and kindly feeling which dictated all the arrange- 
ments, permitted any who wished, to enter the house by the 
principal entrance, walk through a small sitting-room, where hang 
several family portraits, and going through the library, a beautiful 



43 

and favorite room, ornamented with the hkenesses of Mr. Webster 
and Lord Ashburton, pass out upon the lawn. Thousands availed 
themselves of this privilege, — silently, decorously, sadly. There 
was no sound from tha-t vast multitude, but the inevitable grating 
of their feet upon the paths. This was like the chafing of the 
surf upon a pebbly beach, — a strange, impressive murmur. 

At twelve, the passing through the house was stopped. Soon 
afterwards, the Rev. Ebenezer Alden, pastor of the Congrega- 
tional Church in South Marshfield, where Mr. Webster had been 
accustomed to attend public worship, commenced the religious 
service by reading a selection from the Bible. After which, the 
following address was made by him : 

On an occasion like the present, a multitude of words were worse 
than idle. Standing before that majestic form, it becomes ordinary 
men to keep silence. " He being dead, yet speaketh." In the 
words he applied to Washington, in the last great public discourse 
be ever delivered, the whole atmosphere is redolent of his name ; 
hills and forests, rocks and rivers, echo and re-echo his praises. 
All the good, whether learned or unlearned, high or low, rich or 
poor, feel this day that there is one treasure common to them all, 
and that is the fame and character of Webster. They recount his 
deeds, pander over his principles and teachings, and resolve to be 
more and more guided by them in future. Americans by birth are 
proud of his character,' and exiles from foreign shores are eager to 
participate in admiration of him ; and it is true that he is, this day, 
here, everywhere, more an object of love and regard than on any 
day since his birth. 

And while the world, too prone to worship mere intellect, 
laments that the orator and statesman is no more, we enter upon 
more sacred ground, and dwell upon the example and counsels of 
a Christian, as a husband, father, and friend. I trust it will be 
no rude wounding of the spirit, no intrusion upon the privacy of 
domestic life, to allude to a few circumstances in the last scenes 



of the mortal existence of the great man who is gone, fitted 
to administer Christian consolation, and to guide to a better 
acquaintance with that religion which is adapted both to temper 
our grief and establish our hope. 

Those who were present upon the morning of that Sabbath upon 
which this head of a family conducted the worship of his household, 
will never forget, as he read from our Lord's Sermon on the Mount, 
the emphasis which he alone was capable of giving to that passage 
which speaks of the divine nature of forgiveness. They saw 
beaming from that eye, ^ow closed in death, the spirit of Him 
who first uttered that godlike sentiment. 

And he who, by the direction of the dying man, upon a subse- 
quent morning of the day of rest, read in their connection these 
words : " Lord, I believe ; help thou my unbelief; " and then 
the closing chapter of our Saviour's last words to his disciples, 
being particularly requested to dwell upon this clause of the verse 
— " Holy Father, keep through thine own name those whom thou 
hast given me, that they may be one as we are " — beheld a sublime 
illustration of the indwelling and abiding power of Christian faith. 

And if these tender rememberances only cause our tears to 
flow more freely, it may not be improper for us to present the 
example of the father, when hie great heart was rent by the loss 
of a daughter whom he most dearly loved. Those present on that 
occasion well remember when the struggle of mortal agony was 
over, retiring from the presence of the dead, bowing together 
before the presence of God, and joining with the afilicted father 
as he poured forth his soul, pleading for grace and strength from 
on high. 

As upon the morning of his death w^e conversed upon the evident 
fact that, for the last few weeks, his mind had been engaged in 
preparation for an exchange of worlds, one who knew him, well 
remarked, " His whole life has been that pteparation." The people 
of this rural neighborhood, among whom he spent the last twenty 
years of his life, among whom he died, and with whom he is to 



45 

rest, have been accustomed to regard him with mingled veneration 
and lo^e. Those who knew him best, can the most truly appre- 
ciate the lessons both from his lips and example, teaching the 
sustaining power of the Gospel. 

His last words, " I ^till live," we may interpret in a higher 
sense than that in which they are usually regarded. He has taught 
us how to attain the life of faith and the life to come. 

Vividly impressed upon the memory of the speaker is the 
instruction once received as to the fitting way of presenting divine 
truth from the sacred desk. Would that its force might be felt by 
those who are called to minister in divine things. Said Mr. 
Webster, " When I attend upon the preaching of the Gospel, I 
wish to have it made a personal matter, a personal matter, A 
PERSONAL MATTER." It is to present him as enforcing 
these divine lessons of wisdom and consolation, that we have 
recalled to your minds these precious recollections. , 

And w'e need utter no apology. Indeed, we should be inexcu- 
sable in letting the present opportunity pass without unveiling the 
inner sanctuary of the life of the foremost man of all this world ; for 
his most intimate friends are well aware that he had it in mind to 
prepare a work upon the internal evidences of Christianity, as a 
testimony of his heartfelt conviction of the "divine reality " of the 
Gospel of Jesus Christ. But, finding himself rapidly approaching 
those august scenes of immortality into which he had so often looked, 
he dictated the most important part of his epitaph. And so long as 
" the rock shall guard his rest, and the ocean sound his dirge," the 
world shall read upon his monument, not only 

One of the few, the immortal names. 
Which were not born to die ; 

but also that Daniel Webster lived and died in the Chiistian faith. 
The delineation which he gave of one of his early and noble com- 
peers could never have been written except from an experimental 
acquaintaince with that which he holds up as the chief excellence 



46 

of his friend. This description we shall apply to himself, trusting 
that it will be as well understood as admired. 

Political eminence and professional fame fade away and die with ' 
all things earthly. Nothing of character is really permanent but 
virtue and personal worth. These remain. Whatever of excel- 
lence is wrought into the soul itself belongs to both worlds. Real 
goodness does not attach itself merely to this life ; it points to 
another Avorld. Political or professional reputation cannot last 
forever ; but a conscience void of offence before God and man is 
an inheritance for eternity. Religion, therefore, is a necessary and 
indispensable element in any great human character. There is no 
livins without it. Religion is the tie that connects man with his 
Creator and holds him to His throne. If that tie be all sundered, 
all broken, he floats away, a worthless atom in the universe ; its 
proper attractions all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its whole future 
nothing but darkness, desolation, and death. A man with no sense 
of religious duty is he whom the Scriptures describe in such terse 
but terrific language, as living without God in the world. Such a 
man is out of his proper being, out of the circle of all his duties, out 
of the circle of all his happiness, and away, far, far away from the 
purposes of his creation. 

A mind like Mr. Webster's active, thoughtful, penetrating, sedate, 
could not but meditate deeply on the condition of man below, and 
feel its responsibilities. He could not look on this mighty system, 

This universal frame, thus -wondrous fair, 

without feeling that it was created and upheld by an Intelligence, 
to which all other intelligence must be responsible. I am bound 
to say that in the course of my life I never met with an individual 
in any profession or condition, who always spoke and always 
thought with such awful reverence of the power and presence 
of God. No irreverence, no lightness, even no too familiar iJlusion 
to God and his attributes ever escaped his lips. The very notion 
of a Supreme Be'ng was, with him, made up of awe and solemnity. 



47 

It filled the whole of his, great mind with the strongest emotions. 
A man libe him, with all his proper sentiments and sensibilities 
alive in him, must, in this state ot existence, have sorething to 
believe, and something to hope for ; or else, as life is advancing to 
its close, all is heart-sinking and oppression. Depend upon it, 
whatever may be the mind of an old man, old age is only really 
happy when, on feeling the enjoyments of this world pass away, it 
begins to lay a stronger hold on th^ realities of another. 

Mr. Webster's religious sentiments and feelings were the crown- 
ing glories of his character. 

The address was followed by a prayer. The rooms, hall, and 
stairway, were filled by Mr. Webster's relatives and friends, while a 
vast mass of listeners stood on the piazza, and on the lawn ; the 
position of the clergyman, near the hall door, enabling many 
to hear. 

During the exercises, unperceived by the group round the clergy- 
man, arrangements were made for conveying the body to the tomb. 
The metallic case, in which it was deposited, was covered, and 
placed on a simple, low platform, drawn by one pair of black horses 
whose harness was slightly dressed with crape. The coffin was 
covered with full black cloth, confined by several plated orna- 
ments ; a wreath of oak leaves was at the head ; another of fresh 
flowers at the foot. 

After a few moments' pause, at the conclusion of the prayer, 
two or three gentlemen quietly and gradually opened a path 
through the dense mass of persons around the house. In solemn 
silence, six of Mr. Webster's neighbors, Asa Hewett, Seth Weston, 
Eleazer Harlow, J. P. Cushman, Tilden Ames, Daniel Phillips, took 
their places on either side of his bier. His son, grandson, relatives, 
domestics, and the persons having the charge and management of his 
estates, stood next. Among the domestics were several colored 
persons, who had been long in Mr. Webster's service, and were 
deeply attached to him. One of them had been recently emanci- 



48 

pated by him. The Governor of the Commonwealth, the Council 
and State Officers, the Mayor of Boston and City Government, 
distinguished citizens of Massachusetts, and many from the other 
New England States, and delegations from other States and cities, 
with hundreds of personal, devoted friends of Mr. Webster, quietly 
passed into the long sad procession ; truly a sad procession ; for 
the multitudes that lined the path for nearly the whole distance to 
the tomb, where moved by the same grief that rested on the 
hearts of the mourners. 

The morning had been uncommonly beautiful. The air was 
soft and warm, and the light so rich and golden, that the slight 
shade still found under some few trees, had been grateful. Just as 
the procession began to move, a chill breeze came up from the 
ocean, and threw a veil of mist over the sky. 

When the funeral train, all on foot, unheralded by official pomp, 
military display, or even the strains of mourning music, had reached 
the modest tomb, the honored form was rested at the entrance. It 
was once more uncovered that the relatives and friends might again 
and for the last time, look upon that majestic countenance; a 
fervent prayer was again offered ; and then, slowly and sadly, 
friend and stranger passed away, and left the illustrious sleeper with 
those whom he had so tenderly loved in life, and with whom death 
had now reunited him. 

The tomb, with its group of unpretending monuments, is on a 
gentle eminence, about a mile from the mansion-house, and adjoin- 
ing the ancient village burying ground, where rests the dust of 
some of the early Pi-lgrim Fathers. Mr. Webster had himself 
superintended the preparation of the tomb, and the erection of the 
monuments to the wife and children he had lost, directing that the 
one erected to himself should be of the same style and proportions. 
Over the door of the tombs is cut merely, "Daniel Webster." 
On tlie three monuments within the inclosure, are the following 
inscriptions. 



49 

Geace Fletchee. 
Wife of Daniel Webster, 
Born January, 16, 1781, 
Died January 21, 182a 
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 

Julia Websteu. 
wife of 
Samuel Appleton Appleton ; 
Bom January, 16, 1818, 

Died April 28, 1848. 
Let me go, for the day breaketh. 

Mabt Constance Appleton. 

Born Feb. 7, 1848. 

Died March 15, 1849. 

Majoe Edwaed Webster 
Bom July 20, 1820. 
Died at San Angel, in Mexico, 
In the military service 
of his country, 
Jan. 23, 1848. 
A dearly beloved son and brother. 

As the multitude turned from the hallowed spot, many gathered 
flowers, leaves, or even blades of grass, to be treasured as memo- 
rials of a day unequalled in solemn pathos, within their experience. 
The effect upon the minds of all present, can never be described. 

All things were in harmony, — the beauty of the day, the falling 
leaves, the countenances of the assembled multitude, the appropri- 
ate arrangements, the aspect of the autumnal landscape, — all aided 
in producing an elevated and tender mood of feeling, it was one 
of those rare occasions in which a brief space of time is sufficient 
to leave impressions, which all the experiences of future life will 
not be able to efface. 
4 



ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 



Considered me*rely as literary productions, we think the three 
volumes take the highest rank among the best productions of t'he 
American intellect. They are thoroughly national in their spirit 
and tone, and are full of principles, arguments and appeals, which 
comes directly home to the hearts and understandings of the great 
body of the people. They contain the results of a long life of 
mental labor, employed in the service of the country. They give 
evidence of a complete familiarity with the spirit and workings of 
our institutions, and breath the bracing air of a healthy and 
invigorating patriotism. They are replete with that true wisdom 
which is slowly gathered from the exercise of a strong and com- 
prehensive intellect on the complicated concerns of daily life and 
duty. They display qualities of mind and style which would give 
them a high place in any literature, even if the subjects discussed 
were less interesting and important ; and they show also a strength 
of personal character, superior to irresolution and fear, capable of 
bearing up against the most determined opposition, and uniting to 
boldness in thought intrepidity in action. In all the characteristics 
of great literary performances, they are fully equal to many works 
which have stood the test of age, and baffled the skill of criticism. 
Still, though read and quoted by everybody, though continually 
appealed to as authorities, though considered as the products of the 
most capacious understanding in tlie country, few seem inclined 
to consider the high rank they hold in our literature, or their 



51 

claim to be placed among the greatest works which the human 
intellect has produced during the last fifty years. 

The speeches of Daniel Webster are in admirable contrast with 
the kind of oratory we have indicated. They have a value and 
interest apart from the time and occasion of their delivery, for they 
are store-houses of thought and knowledge. The speaker descends 
to no rhetorial tricks and shifts, he indulges in no parade of orna- 
ment. A self-sustained intellectual might is impressed on every 
page. He rarely confounds the processes of reason and imagina- 
tion, even in those popular discourses intended to operate on large 
assemblies. He betrays no appetite for applause, no desire to win 
attention by the brisk life and momentary sparkle of flashing 
declamation. Earnestness, solidity of judgment, elevation of senti- 
ment, broad and generous views of national policy, and a massive 
strength of expression, characterize all his works. We feel, in 
reading them, that he is a man of principles, not a man of expedi- 
ents ; that he never adopts opinions without subjecting them to 
stern tests ; and that he recedes from them only at the bidding of 
reason and experience. He never seems to be playing a part, but 
always acting a life. 

The impression of power we obtain from Webster's productions, 
— a power not merely of the brain, but of the heart and physical 
temperament, a power resulting from the mental and bodily consti- 
tution of the whole man, — is the source of his hold upon our respect 
and admiration. We feel that, under any circumstances, in any 
condition of social life, and at almost any period of time, his great 
capacity would have been felt and acknowledged. He does not 
appear, li'ke many eminent men, to be more peculiarly calculated 
for his own age than for any other, — to possess faculties and dispo- 
sitions which might have rusted in obscurity, had circumstances 
been less propritious. We are sure that, as an old baron of the 
feudal time, as an early settler of New England, as a pioneer in the 
western forests, he would have been a Warwick, a Standish, or a 
Boon. His childhood was passed in a small country village, where 



52 

the means of education were scanty, and at a period when th<* 
country was rent with civfl dissensions. A large majority of those 
who are called educated men have been surrounded by all the 
implements and processes of instruction; but Webster won his 
education by battling against difficulties. " A dwarf behind a 
steam-engine can remove mountains ; but no dwarf can hew them 
down with a pick axe, and he must be a Titan that hurls them 
abroad with his arms." Every step in that long journey, by which 
the son of the New Hampshire farmer has obtained the highest rank 
in social and political hfe, has been one of strenuous effort. The 
space is crowded with incidents, and tells of obstacles sturdily met 
and fairly overthrown. His life and his writings seem to bear testi- 
mony, that he can perform whatever he strenuously attempts. 
His words never seem disproportioned to his strength. Indeed, he 
rather gives the impression that he has powers and impulses in 
reserve, to be employed when the occasion for their exercises 
may arise. In many of his speeches, not especially pervaded by 
passion, we perceive strength, indeed, but strength " half-leaning 
on his own right-arm." He has never yet been placed in circum- 
stances where the .full might of his nature, in all its depth of 
understanding, fiery vehemence of sensibility, and adamantine 
strength of will, have been brought to bear on any one object, and 
strained to their utmost. 

We have referred to Webster's productions as being eminently 
national. Every one familiar with them will bear out the state- 
ment. In fact, the most hurried glance at his life would prove, 
that, surrounded as he has been from his youth by American influ- 
ences, it could hardly be otherwise. His earliest recollections 
must extend nearly to the feelings and incidents of the Revolution 
His whole life since that period has been passed in the country of 
his birth, and his fame and honors are all closely connected with 
American feelings and institutions. His works all refer to the 
history, the policy, the laws, the government, the social life, and the 
destiny, of his own land. They bear little resemblance, - in their 



53 

tone and spirit, to productions of the same class on the other side 
of the Atlantic. They have come from the heart and understand- 
ing of one into whose very nature the life of his country has 
passed. Without taking into view the influences to which his 
youth and early manhood were subjected, so well calculated to 
inspire a love for the very soil of his nativity, and to mould his 
mind into accordance with what is best and noblest in the spirit 
of our institutions, his position has been such as to lead him to 
survey objects from an American point of view. His patriotism 
has become part of his being. Deny him that, and you deny the 
authorship of his works. It has prompted the most majestic flights 
of his eloquence. It has given intensity to his purposes, and lent 
the richest glow to his genius. It has made his eloquence a 
language of the heart, felt and understood over every portion of 
the land it consecrates. On Plymouth Rock, on Bunker's Hill, at 
Mount Vernon, by the tombs of Hamilton, and Adams, and Jeffer- 
son, and Jay, we are reminded of Daniel Webster. He has done 
what no national poet has yet succeeded in doing, — associated 
his own great genius with all in our country's history and scenery 
which makes us rejoice that we are Americans. Over all those 
events in our historv which are heroical, he has cast the hues of 
strono; feelins; and vivid imagination. He cannot stand on one 
spot of ground, hallowed by liberty or religion, without being 
kindled by the genius of the place ; he cannot mention a name, 
consecrated by self-devotion and patriotism, without doing it 
eloquent homage. Seeing clearly, and feeling deeply, he makes us 
see and feel with him. That scene c^f the landing of Pilgrims, in 
which his imagination conjures up the forms and emotions of our 
New England ancestry, will ever live in the national memor}\ 
We see, with him, the little " bark, with the interesting group on 
its deck, make it slow progress to the shore." We feel, with 
him, " the cold which benumbed," and listen, with him, " to the 
winds which pierced them " Carver, and Bradford, and Standish, 
and Brewster, and Allerton, look out upon us from the pictured 



54 

page, in all the dignity with which virtue and freedom invest theit 
martyrs ; and we see, too, " chilled and shivering childhood, house- 
less but for a mother's arms, couchless but for a mother's breast," 
till our own blood almost freezes. 

The readiness with which the orator compels our sympathies to 
follow his o^\^l is again illustrated in the orations at Bunker Hill, 
and in the discourse in honor of Adams and Jefferson. In reading 
them, we feel a new pride, in our country, and in the great men 
and great principles it has cherished. The mind feels an unwonted 
elevation, and the heart is stirred with emotions of more than 
common depth, by their majesty and power. Some passages are 
so graphic and true that they seem gifted with a voice, and to 
speak to us from the page they illumine. The intensity of feeling 
with which they are pervaded rises at times from confident hope to 
prophecy, and lifts the soul as with wings. In that splendid close 
to a remarkable passage in the oration on Adams and Jefferson, 
what American does not feel assured, with the orator, that their 
fame will be immortal ? " Although no sculptured marble should 
rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record to their 
deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they 
honored. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, time 
may erase all impress from the crumbling stone, but their fame 
remains ; for with American Liberty it rose, and with American 
Liberty only can it perish. It was the last swelling peal of 
yonder choir, ' Their bodies are buried in peace, but their name 
liveth evermore," I catch the solemn song, I echo that lofty 
strain of funeral triumph, ' Their name livetu evermore.' " 

In that noble burst of eloquence, in the speech on the Greek 
Revolution, in which he asserts the power of the moral sense of 
the world, in checking the dominion of brute force, and rendering 
insecure the spoils of successful oppression, we have a .strong 
instance of his reliance on the triumph of right over might. 

"This public opinion of the civilized world," he says, " may bo silenced by u ili- 
tary po-wcr, but it cannot be conquered. It is elastic, irrepressible, and irvulneraUe 



55 

to the ■weapons of ordinary power. It follows the conqueror back to the very scene 
of his ovations ; it calls upon him to take notice, that Europe, though silent, is yet 
indignant ■ it shows him, that the sceptre of his victory is a barren sceptre, that it 
shall confer neither joy nor honor, but shall moulder to dry ashes in his grasp. In 
tlie midst of his exultation, it pierces his ear -with the cry of iujured justice, 
it denounces against him tlie indignation of an enlightened and civilized age ; it 
turns to bitterness the cup of his rejoicing, and "wounds him with the sting which 
belongs to the consciousness of having outraged the opinion of mankind." 

The most splendid image to be found in any of his works closes 
a passage in which he attempts to prove that our fathers accom- 
plished the Revolution on a strict question of principle. 

* It was against the recital of an act of parliament, rather than against any sufiFer- 
ing under its enactments, that they took up arms. They went to war against a prcam- 
Me ! They fought seven years against a declaration. They poured out their treas- 
ures and their blood like water, in a contest in opposition to an assertion, which those 
less sagacious, and not so well schooled in the principles of civil liberty, would have 

regarded as barren phraseology, or mere parade of words On this question of 

principle, whUe actual suffering was yet afar off, they raised their flag against a 
power, to which, for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Eome in the 
height of her glory, is not to be compai'ed, — a power which has dotted over the 
surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts, whose morning 
drum-beat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth 
daily with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England." 

The imagination of Mr. Webster, if not that of a poet, is emi- 
nently the imagination which befits an orator and debater. A 
statesman who is to present his views on a question of national 
policy in lucid order, and to illustrate them by familiar pictures, 
would fail in attaining his object, if he substituted fancies for reason, 
or linked his reasoning with too subtile images. Mr. Webster's 
imagination never leads him astray from his logic, but only illu- 
mines the path. It is no delicate Ariel, sporting with abstract 
thought, and clothing it in a succession of pleasing shapes ; but a 
power fettered by the chain of argument it brightens. Even in 
his noblest bursts of eloquence, we are struck rather by the eleva- 
tion of the feehng, than the vigor of the imagination. For 



66 

instance, in the Bunker Hill oration, lie closes an animated passage 
with the well-known sentence, — " Let it rise till it meet the sun in 
his coming ; let the earliest light of morning gild it, and parting day 
linger and play upon its summit." If we take from this passage 
all the phrases which are not strictly ongmal, and separate the 
sentiment from the invention, we shall find that it is not eminently 
creative. 

In Mr. Webster's style, we always perceive that a presiding 
power of intellect regulates his use of terms. The amplitude of his 
comprehension is the source of his felicity of expression. He bends 
language into the shape of his thought ; he never accommodates^ 
his thought to his language. The grave, high, earnest nature of 
the man looks out upon us from his well-knit, massive, compact 
sentences. We feel that we are reading the works of one whose 
greatness of mind and strength of passion no conventionalism could 
distort, and no exterior process of culture could polish into feeble- 
ness and affectation ; of one who has Hved a life, as well as passed 
through a college, — who has looked at nature and man as they are 
in themselves, not as they appear in books. We can trace back 
expressions to influences coming from the woods and fields, — from 
the fireside of the farmer, — from the intercourse of social life. The 
secret of his style is not to be found in Kames or Blair, but in his 
own mental and moral constitution. There is a tough, sinewy 
strength in his diction, which gives it almost muscular power in 
forcing its way to the heart and understanding. Occasionally, his 
words are of that kind which are called " half-battles, stronger 
than most men's deeds." In the course of an abstract discussion, 
or a clear statement of facts, he will throw in a sentence which 
almost makes us spring to our feet. When vehemently roused, 
either from the excitement of opposition, or in unfolding a great 
principle which fills and expands his soul, or in paying homage to 
some noble exemplar of virtue and genius, his style has a Miltonic 
grandeur and roll, which can hardly be surpassed for majestic 
eloquence. In that exulting rush of the mind, when every faculty 



57 

is permeated by feeling, and works with all the force of passion, 
his style has a corresponding swiftness and energy, and seems 
endowed with power to sweep all obstacles from its path. In those 
inimitable touches of wit and sarcasm, also, where so much depends 
upon the collection and collocation of apt and expressive language, 
and where the object is to pelt and tease rather than to crush, h's 
diction glides easily into colloquial forms, and sparkles with anima- 
tion and point. In the speech in reply to Hayne, the variety of his 
style, is admirably exemplified. The pungency and force of many 
strokes of sarcasm, in this celebrated production, the rare felicity 
of their expression, the energy and compression of the wit, and the 
skill with which all are made subsidiary to the general purpose of 
the orator, afford fine examples of what may be termed the science 
of debate. There is a good-humored mockery, covering, however, 
much grave satire, in his reference to the bugbear of Federalism. 

" We all know a process," he says, " by ■which the whole Essex Junto could, in 
one hour, be washed white from their ancient federalism, and come out, every one 
of them, an original democrat, dyed in the wool I Some of them have actually under- 
gone the operation, and they say it is quite easy. The only inconvenience it occa- 
Bions, as they tell us, is a slight tendency of the blood to the head, a soft suffusion, 
which however, is very transient, since nothing is said by those they join calculated to 
deepen the red in the cheek, but a prudent silence is observed in regard to all the past" 

We have not considered Daniel Webster as a politician, but as 
an American. We do not possess great men in such abundance 
as to be able to spare one from the list. It is clearly our pride and 
interest to indulge in an honest exultation at any signs of intellec- 
tual supremacy in one of our own countrymen. His talents and 
acquirements are so many arguments for republicanism. They are 
an answer to the libel, that, under our constitution, and in the 
midst of our society, large powers of mind and marked individu- 
ality of character cannot be developed and nourished. We have 
in Mr. Webster the example of a man whose youth saw the founda- 
tion of our government, and whose maturity has been spent in 



^ 



./ 



58 

exercising some of its highest offices ; who was born on our soil, 
educated amid our people, exposed to all the malign and beneficent 
influences of our society ; and who has acquired high station by no 
sinuous path, by no sacrifice of manliness, principle, or individu- 
ality, but by a straight-forward force of character and vigor of 
intellect. A fame such as he has obtained is worthy of the noblest 
ambition ; it reflects honor on the whole nation ; it is stained by no 
meanness, or fear, or subserviency ; it is the result of a long life of 
intellectual labor, employed in elucidating the spirit of our laws 
and government, in defending the principles of our institutions, in 
disseminating enlarged views of patriotism and duty, and in enno- 
bling, by the most elevated sentiments of freedom and religion, the 
heroical events of our natural history. And we feel assured, 
when the animosities of party have been stilled at the tomb, and 
the gi-eat men of this generation have passed from the present 
feverish sphere of excitement into the calm of history, that it will 
be with feelings of unalloyed pride and admiration, that the scholar, 
the lawyer, the statesman, the orator, the American, will pondei 
over the writings of Daniel Webster. 



59 



EULOGY. 



BT WnjJtTR t^ HATWARD. 



The voices of national eulogy and sorrow unite to tell us, Daniel 
Webster is numbered with the dead. Seldom has mortality seen a 
sublimer close of an illustrious career. No American, since Wash- 
ington, has, to so great an extent, occupied the thoughts, and 
moulded the minds of men. The past may hold back its tribute, 
and the present give no light, but the futurewill show in colors of liv- 
ing truth the honor which i? justly due him as the political prophet, 
and great, intellectual light of the New World. His life-time labors 
have been to defend the Constitution, to preserve the Union, to 
honor the great men of the Revolution, to vindicate International 
Law, to develop the resources of the country, and transmit the 
blessings of good government to all who should thereafter walk on 
American soil. 

It is right that mourning should shroud the land. A star of mag- 
nitude and lustre has left the horizon and gone down to the realm 
of death. Wherever on earth patriotism commands regard, and 
eloquence leads captive the soul, it will be seen and felt that a truly 
great man has been called away, and left a void which none can fill. 

New Hampshire has lost her noblest column. She has no more 
such granite left. Massachusetts will not soon cease weeping for 
her adopted son. Plymouth Rock, Faneuil Hall, and Bunker Hill, 
will forever speak of him whose eloquence has made them hallowed 
spots in the remembrance of mankind. His ennobling flights of 
reason, and lofty outbursts of oratorical power, give us evidence 
clearer than the light of day, that genius will leave an impress on 



60 

the human heart which time can not corrode, nor circumstance 
destroy. 

True greatness is not born in a day. It requires many years 
to lay an adamantine foundation. Webster did not dazzle the 
world with a sudden outburst of glory. But like the sun rising 
amid clouds and dispelling sudden storms, he slowly attained the 
meridian, and when at last called to set behind the horizon, left " the 
world all light — all on fire — from the potent contact of his own 
great spirit." His genius was not of that order which for a few 
years illuminates the world, and then goes out, to be remembered 
no more forever ; but, like the majesty of the monuments which 
ages ofEgyptian toil had raised on the sands of the desert, and 
which still mock the corrodings of time, his mind slowly matured, 
and when it was brought into active life gave clear and conclu- 
sive evidence that monuments would crumble to dust and the sea 
lave the shore no more before it would fail of grateful mention ana 
lasting homage. 

It has been said that national ingratitude sent Webster home lo 
Marshfield to die. It is a base slander on his glorious career. 
When his mission was filled, he went home to the grave undis- 
turbed by political clamor, or the thunders of a mercenary press. 
A.11 were unable to dethrone the majestyof his mind, to quench his 
ardor and patriotism, or make less strong his love for, and devotion 
to American Liberty and Union. When Adams and Jefferson 
died, Faneuil Hall was shrouded in mourning, and its arches rung 
with his lofty and just commendations of their services to liberty 
and mankind. From his eulogy on the occasion of their deaths, 
with its sublime bursts of eloquence, will their fame go down to the 
future in a manner more imperishable than sculptured marble or 
monumental pile. Again, when the oration was pronounced upon 
the landing of the Pilgrims on the rock of Plymouth, it was felt by all, 
who in his burning words called to mind that lonely bark tossed on 
the surges of an unknown sea, bearing as its freight liberty to worship 
God according to the dictates of conscience — that wheresoever, in 



61 

all coming years the sons of that immortal band should spread the 
light of civilization and blessings of good government — the vi^ords 
which he then and there uttered, would be read and kindle the fires 
of patriotism on every hearth-stone, from the Eastern to the West- 
ern Ocean. Demosthenes, when in the pride of his manhood and 
strength of mind, wrote and delivered the Oration on the Crown. 
It has become the classical study of every age since then. Web- 
ster, also, when in the maturity of his intellect, on Bunker Hill, 
which in days of revolutionary history had been watered with the 
blood of American Freemen, gave evidence to the world that 
although Demosthenes and the gates of Athens had crumbled 
away to dust, a greater than Demosthenes now lived to give a last- 
ing influence to the character and destiny of the New World. The 
reply to Hayne settled in the minds of all reasonable men the 
question of State Rights and Nullification, then broached in Con- 
gress, to the great danger of the Union. May the Heavens be 
rolled away as a scroll, and the elements melt with fervent heat, 
before such sentiments shall fail of the knowledge and respect of 
the American people. Webster's intellect resembled the glory of 
noontide sun — his profound reason would admit of no successful 
answer. Equally at home, at the Bar, or in Congressional Halls, 
he has won, in the noblest elements of manhood, the name of 
God-like. 

The sphere of eloquence is directly with the minds of the masses. 
It is a spontaneous spirit of genius, ever ready to show its power. 
It rouses the patriotism of a continent, and leaves its impress on 
the hearts of the people. Intelligence will bask in its sunshine. 
Ignorance will bow down and worship a power which it cannot 
comprehend. Oral tradition will transmit from generation to gene- 
ration. It cannot be dimmed by lapse of ages, or lost in any revo- 
lution of human affairs. 

Sad and unwelcome are the events which mark the age. Death 
has thrown a deep and sombre pall over the land. Tearful is 
Columbia's eye, and desolate is her heart. Her temple is shrouded in 



62 

gloom — its aisles are thronged with moiu'ners — its columns are 
wreathed with cypress. The muffled bell is but the echo of the 
muflled heart. Elegy has stifled encomium ; panegyric has yielded 
to sorrow ; grief has become the most befitting eulogy. The heroes 
of the Revolution have met the only foe they could not conquer, 
achieved the only victory that will endure, and won the only laurels 
that will not fade. The Conscript Fathers are no more ; one by 
one they have passed away to a brighter and a happier sphere. 
They are all gone forever — Creators, Preservers, and Defender — 
all ! Their mighty missions are ended — their work is done ; death 
has hallowed their memories, and immortal life has sanctified their 
careers ! Washington and Adams, and Jefferson and Madison, and 
Calhoun and Clay! Illustrious immortals! How we delight to 
dwell upon their virtues, and linger on their memories ! While we 
would not recall them from their high abode,— fain would we still have 
kept back one from that resplendent throng ! Mount Vernon ! and 
Quincy, and Monticello, and Ashland ! 

" Ye dusky palaces whose gloom is ved 
" To mighty names ! " 

Hallowed are thy memories, and sacred thy dust! ^i\\\ gladly 
would we yet longer have withheld Marshfield from that mournful 
catalogue ! But alas ! that soul sublime has already passed the 
stream of death * * * " to breathe 

•' Ambrosial gales and drink a purer sky, *• 

with that long and bright array who are reaping the reward 
of unsullied virtue and unbending faith ! The last and noblest 
of those glorious lights which had shone so long and so brightly 
in the great American constellation, as to dazzle the world with 
its splendor, has suddenly gone out — Gone out ? No ! It still 
beams with bright refraction around that deep, dark veil which has 
eclipsed its ''fervent heat," and thrown its " radiant light " to heaven* 
A cloud has passed over its fair disc but to image upon a darker 
screen its richer tints, and its more golden hues I 



63 

Well may Columbia droop her queenly head, when her Defender 
has fallen ! fallen on the field where he had won so many amaranth- 
ine wreaths, in advance of the ranks whose courage had been 
strengthened by his word, and at the very post which Nature had 
reserved for his mighty and commanding intellect. Born among 
the rough, rugged mountains of New Hampshire, that Switzerland 
of America — ^where Nature, — whose domain it seems almost sacri- 
lege for art to invade, — has vied with herself in her sublime crea- 
tions, his mind, like her mountains, was fashioned in a giant 
mould, and caught its bold outlines from their granite walls. 

The fires of the Revolutionhad just ceased to burn — the sword 
had just returned to the scabbard — the last boom of the cannon 
had just died away on the parapets of Yorktown — the breath of 
Liberty had blown back on the shores of England the fiery tide 
of unavailing resistance, strown thick with the wrecks of her 
wealth, her power and her glory. 

Early had he learned to lisp the names of those brave men whose 
patriotism and self-devotion is attested by a mighty chain of monu- 
ments, from the heights of Bennington and Bunker Hill, to the plains 
of Monmouth and Eutau. The age of creative power had come. His 
eye was opened upon another contest. High hopes begat noble 
designs. Renowned champions were in the field. Lofty ends were 
to be accomplished, and noble destinies achieved. A mighty con- 
flict of opinion was to follow in the bloody track of the Revolution. 
Bold and heroic thoughts generated diversity of sentiment, and 
gave birth to God-like acts. Interest, deep and intense, filled every 
bosom. All were launched upon a pathless and an unexplored sea. 
The polar star had not yet risen. " The needle of Republican 
Destiny was quivering in the doubtful gale of Experiment." The 
magnet of public sentiment must be tempered to the pulse and 
rivited to the great heart of the Republic. That noble object is 
accomplished. The sound of discord has died away. Private 
interest has yielded to lofty patriotism. Light has burst in upon 
the storm and spanned the heavens with a bow of promise. While 



64 

from the very head of disorder, Minerva-hke, sprang that mighty 
prodigy of wisdom — the grand Charter of American Liberty — 
the Constitution. 0! glorious consummation! Happy! thrice 
happy, auspicious day ! Little thought New Hampshire that she 
was then nourishing among the obscurities of her rugged mountains 
an Olympian mind, which was yet to pour its light in one intense 
and concentrated focus upon every letter of that sublime — and let 
me add — imperisfiable Oracle! Little thought she that in her 
granite soil was striking deep a giant palm, which should yet tower 
far above her dizzy mountains, and under whose sturdy branches 
spreading all over the limits of a continent, should repose, insepa- 
rably bound together by a bright fraternal chain, the freest and 
happiest nation on the globe. 

Trite and insipid would it be in me to trace anew that mighty 
genius through his wonderful career. There are his acts, noble, 
lofty, god-like ! They are their own historians ! There are his 
thoughts, high, heroic, and sublime ! They stand alone, unequalled, 
unalloyed, imperishable. They are the world's legacy. His fame 
has taken the pinions of ubiquity ; it is already enchased deep in 
the hearts of grateful millions, "and there it will remain for ever." 

The great American Triumvirate is at length ended. Clay, and 
Calhoun, and Webster ! How unlike Crassus, and Pompey, and 
Caesar ! They lived for glory, and power, and Empire ; and each 
in turn met the fatal blow of the assassin. The first fell by the 
mad revenge of a foreign foe. The ambition of the latter was too 
strong for their friendship. From the gory locks of Pompey, Cae- 
sar turned away and wept, — Caisar, who in his giant strides for 
Empire, fell beneath the dagger of " the self appointed executioner 
of his country's vengeance !" How marked the contrast ! How 
wide the difference ! Our Triumvirs lived for their country, la- 
boxed for its institutions, dedicated the ardor of youth, the power 
of manhood, and the wisdom of age, to its sublime and sacred 
service. And when Death, the tardy assassin, approached, with 
faltering step, the sanctuary of their lives, he found it tenanted by 



65 

no ambitious and bloodstained conquerors ; its arches hung with 
no escutcheons of heraldric blazonry ; its galleries strung with no 
moldering laurels, or worn and rust clad mail ; its porches flashing 
with no falchion lances of chivalric knights ; but he found that tem- 
ple swept and garnished ; the aged priests at its altar clothed in the 
pure white robes of virtue, its laurelled arches twined with ama- 
ranth, its galleries hung thick with the trophies of wisdom and elo- 
quence, and its ivied porches glittering with the gems of immor- 
tality. The Csesar of our Triumvirate fell by a higher decree 
than the sword of Brutus, and left a nation of Antonies to mourn 
his fall. 

If calumny, and detraction, and jealousy, would not permit him 
to stand at the head of the Republic, his own mighty genius, his 
noble and commanding intellect, his broad and unwavering patri- 
otism, have made him the enshrined idol of a nation's heart — and 
won for him an incontestable geatness to which that of Dictator, 
or Consul, or Tribune, or President, are poor and mean. 

Daniel Webster's character was the arbiter of his high career. 
Such a character will be great without honor. Offices and emolu- 
ments do not, cannot give greatness. They can only sanction 
and recognize the existence of that wisdom and those virtues which 
can alone confer an official rank and authority, whatever of true 
honor and glory they possess. 

In an age of great men, he who by superior genius rises above 
or stands in advance of his age, has far higher claims to greatness 
than he who stands alone, like a solitary mountain in a desert plain, 
or a single star, sparkling in the vault of night. The one, by its 
solitary magnificence may seem to pierce the heavens with its 
Olympian peak, in comparison with the monotony of the surround- 
ing waste. The other, by its lonely splendor, may attract the gaze 
and win the admiration of the world. Yet that mountain shall 
dwindle to insignificance, when seen amid the myriad towering 
summits of Alpine grandeur, 

" Soaring, snow clad, through their native sky, 
5 In the \yild pomp of mountain majesty." 



G6 

And that star shall lose the splendor of its blaze, when the cloud- , 
curtain is removed, and a million orbs flash their mingled radiance 
across its glittering beams. So Daniel Webster, standing as he 
did, in an age almost unparalleled in the annals of the world, foi 
the brilliancy and the splendor of its talent and its worth ; in 
the profoundness of its philosophers, the purity of its statesmen, 
the magnificence of its orators — an age which has opened to 
]}osterity, as its priceless legacy, the deepest and richest fountains 
of intellectual light which has ever burst upon the world ; — in a 
word, an ase which has enshrined more of true worth for merited 
immortality than any other in the records of the past, illumined as 
it was by the resplendent genius of a galaxy which Clay, and Cal- 
houn, and Adams, and Hamilton, and Hayne, and Wirt, and Ames, 
and Everett, and Story, enlightened with their counsels, brightened 
with their wisdom, and electrified with their eloquence. 

In such an age, the Augustan age of America, Daniel Webster 
was the Cicero. In such a constellation, the versatility of his talents, 
the splendor of his genius, the grandeur of his philosophy, and the 
prophet-like ken of his statesmanship, all congregated in one mighty 
mind, clothed him with a light, which, while it throws a halo 
around the genius of his age, shall light up, by the glitter of its re- 
flected beams the darkest page in the unpenned history of the 
world. 

His was a great and celebrated name : 

" Clnrum ct venerabilc nomen gontibus, 
Et multum nostree quod proderat urbL" 

Daniel Webster was great in all the elements of his character. 
Great in original mental strength-^great in varied and vast ac- 
(luirements — great in quick and keen perception — great in subtle, 
logical discrimination — great in force of thought — great in power 
of intense and rigid analysis— great in rare and beautiful combi- 
nation of talent — great in abjlity to make an effort and command 
his power — great in range and acuteness of vision, he could see 
like a prophet. Hence, his decision of character — his bold, manly 



67 



and independent thought — his whole sovereignty of mind. No 
nnin, probably, ever lived, who could calculate witii such maihe- 
matical certainty the separate effect of human actions, or the intri- 
cate, combined and complicated influence of every movement, 
5-:ocial, political, or personal. He could define and determine the 
very destiny of influence. With him cause and effect were coevai. 
He \Aas the very Oracle of Philosophy, — high, noble. Godlike Phi- 
losophy, — not that technical and disputaceous philosophy, which is 
so filled up with polemic subtleties as to isolate its influence and 
neutralize its eflect on human destiny, — but a practical, utilitarian 
philosophy, — one which weaves its influence into the very warp 
and woof of human actions, and pervades the whole fabric of life. 
This is the key to the problem of his greatness, an explanation to 
the miracle of his power. We are proud of his greatness, because 
it is American — ivholly American ! The very impulses of his heart 
were American. The spirit of American Institutions had infused 
itself into his life — had become a part of his being. He was proud 
of his country, — proud of her commerce, — proud of her manufac- 
tures,— proud of her agriculture, — proud of her institutions of art 
and science, — and proud of her wealth, her resources and her labor. 
And all in turn were proud of him. 

His patriotism was not bounded by the narrow limits of sectional 
interest, not hemmed in by State lines, nor regulated and biassed 
by local policies. It was as broad as his country. He knew a 
North and a South, an East and a West ; but he knew them only 
as one, — " One and Inseparable !" 

Though differing in name, and separated by territorial barriers, 
yet warmed to life by -the same breath, nourished by the same 
hand, protected by the same care, reared by the same power, united 
by a common bond, possessing a common hope, a common aim, a 
common interest and a common destiny. To preserve that bond, 
to secure that hope, to p- otect that interest, and to guard that des- 
tiny, was the high mission of his life. Daniel Webster did not be- 
long to New Hampshire, nor to Massachusetts, nor to South Caro- 



G8 

lina; but to all. His sympathies were as true and as broad as 
his patriotism, and both kept pace with the ever advancing Ter- 
minus of his country's Empire. 

Politics, like philosophy, has ever had its schools. Like philoso- 
phy too, it has had its Platos, its Zenos, and its Aristotles. Daniel 
Webster was the Plato of that great American school, who have 
ever advocated " The Indivisible Unity of this Confederacy," and 
Protection to American Industry, in all her mighty avenues, — 
Connmercial, Manufacturing, Agricultural and Mechanical. He 
would throw the broad, strong shield of Law around the Genius of 
Labor, consecrated by the Genius of Liberty. In this he saw the 
only response to that sublime inten^ogation — " What has conferred 
upon poverty itself a power and a dignity which wealth, and pomp, 
and royalty, cannot secure?" The Genius of Laboh, consecrated 
by the Genius of Liberty, is the clarion voice echoed from the 
hamlets in a million dales, and the cities on a thousand plains ! 
The Genius of Labor, consecrated by the Genius of Liberty, is 
the joyous response of twenty millions of happy and exulting hearts. 
The Genius of Labor, consecrated by the Genius of that Liberty, 
which has written, " Columbia, happy and free !" as with the 
finger of Ubiquity, on the pure canvass of ten thousand flags of 
Commerce— warbles it in the hum of her million spindles, repeats 
it in the rattle of her myriad looms, chants it in the sound of the 
ax and the hammer, in her legion workshops and her reddening 
forges, sounds it in the low bass of the mill wheel, and prolongs it in 
the united and joyous chorus of her unnumbered avenues of indus- 
trv. The Genius of Labor has made the son of toil a peasant, — 
consecrated by the Genius of Liberty, it has made him a Prince ! 
And beneath the resplendent dome of this immense and magnificent 
Temple of Freedom, whose brilliance reflects the accumulated light 
of ages, he would see them inseparably bound together! Liberty 
and Labor ! " Live ! incomparable pair !" Let thy hands be linked 
in indissoluble union. Let nothing separate thee ! Let these Sister 
Genii ever walk together, like Mercy and Truth ; let them meet 



69 

each other, like Righteousness and Peace , let them kisf< each other. 
Like Ruth to Naomi — ^let each say to the other, " Where thou 
goest I will go, and where thou diest I will die !" In fine, he 
would present to the world the sublime realization of a Republic, 
surpassing in grandeur and purity the most brilliant ideals of Py- 
thagoras, or the noblest day dreams of Plato. 

As a diplomatist, the world has never seen his equal. He wielded 
the pen of the nation with a power, a dignity and a grandeur, wholly 
unparalleled in the annals of diplomacy. When clouds and dark- 
ness gloomed the heavens, — when the storm had gathered, ready 
to burst in fury, — wheh the whole Republic every moment feared 
the mighty convulsive shock which should mar and shatter the fa- 
bric of their hopes, — then, standing on the summit of the trembling 
Acropolis, the Angel of Deliverance, he threw his burning chain 
over the cloud and drew the lightning in safety from the heavens ! 
/ But it is as Senator in that grand Forum of the Nations congre- 
■' gated wisdom, power and eloquence, we see him towering in all 
the majesty and supremacy of his greatness — the mighty bulwark 
of the Nation's hope — the august arbiter of the Nation's Destiny. 
How grand ! how sublime ! how imperial ! how god-like ! It was 
here that he occupied the uncontested throne of human great- 
ness ; exhibited himself to the world in all his grand and magnificent 
proportions — wore a crown studded with gems that an Emperor 
might covet — won an immortality of envied honor, and covered 
himself with a glory, brighter and purer and higher than a con- 
queror, has ever been permitted to achieve. Herje he proved him- 
self the conservator of Constitutional Liberty, and bequeathed to 
history an appellation, every letter of which shall glow with grateful 
undiminished lustre, when the hand that penned it shall be forgotten 
and the deeds it records shall be buried among the dim legends of 
tradition. It was in tliis high arena that he " became enamored of 
glory, and was admitted to her embrace." 

Eloquence was his panoply — his very stepping stone to fame. 
She twined upon his brow a wreath which antiquity might covet — 



70 

inspired his soul with a Divinity which shaped his lofty destiny, and 
threw a light upon his track of glory which no fortune could 
obscure. She bore him up to the Pisgah of Renown, where he sat 
solitary and alone, the monarch of a realm, whose conqueror wears 
no bloody laurels — whose fair domain no carnage can despoil, and 
in whose bright crown no pillaged pearls are set. 

As a Forensic orator, I know of no age, past or present, which can 
boast his superior. He united the boldness and energy of the Gre- 
cian, and the gi-andeur and strength of the Reman, to an original, 
sublime simplicity, which neither Grecian nor Roman possessed. 
He did not deal in idle declamati on and lofty expression ; his ideas 
were not e mbalmed in rhetorical embellishments, nor buried up in 
the superfluous tinselry of mc taphor and trope. He clothed them 
for the occasion, and if the crisis demanded, they stood forth naked, 
in all their native majesty, armed with a power \\hich would not 
bend to the passion, but only stooped to conquer the reason. Sub- 
lime, indeed, it was to see that giant mind when roused in all its 
grandeur, sweep over the fields of reason and imagination, bearing 
down all opposition, as with the steady and resistless power of the 
ocean billows, — to see the eye, the brow, the gesture, the whole man 
speaking with an utterance to sublime for language — a logic too 
lofty for speech. He spoke like a Divinity — 

•' Each conception was a heavenly guest, 

A ray of immortality, — and stood 

StarlLke, around, until they gathered to a God I" 

The highest honors America can confer upon her noblest son, 
can prove but her bankruptcy. She can never rear a colossal 
monument worthy of his towering genius. He needs no marble 
column or sculptured urn to perpetuate his memory, or tell his 
worth to rising generations, 

Excgit " monumentum aero perennius 
Rcgalique situ pyramidum altius," 

His fame shall outlive marble, for when time shall efface every 



71 

letter from the crumbling stone, — yea, when the marble itself shall 
dissolve to dust, his memory shall be more deeply encased in the 
hearts of unborn millions, and from his tomb shall arise a sacred 
incense which shall garnish the concave of his native sky with the 
brightest galaxy of posthumous fame, and on its broad arch of 
studded magnificence shall be braided in " characters of living light," 
Daniel Webster ! the great Defender of the Constitution ! 

The nation mourns, and well it may. He has left a void which 
none can fill — laid forever at rest in the humble grave, by the side 
of the sea — the wild waves sing his requiem. With Mount 
Vernon and Ashland, his tonib will be a place where men in all 
coming time will resort, to bring away memorials from the sanctu- 
ary of the mighty dead. Patriotism, when it desponds, will go 
there, look and live ; factional strife and sectional jealousy will feel 
rebuked when they visit the last resting place of him whose labors 
of a lifetime were to transmit the blessings of life and liberty, and 
the pursuit of happiness which God ordained should first be made 
manifest in America. Not far from his grave is that hallowed spot 
in American history, where — 

" The heavy night hung dark 

The hills and ■waters o'er, 
As a band of exiles moored their bark 

On wild New England's shore." 

The beams of the setting sun will fall with a mellowed light on 
the spot where the majestic form of Webster moulders back to 
dust, and where the anthem of the Puritan was heard as he came 
to build an altar to his God, and find a quiet tomb. 

It is not with the vain hope of adding a single ray to the already 
dazzling focus of his fame, that we have attempted to eulogize his 
worth ; but with the high purpose of testifying those feelings of 
reverence and admiration, next to idolatry, which, in the contem- 
plation of so sublime a character, burn in the bosom of every 
American youth, that we have dared to approach the tomb of buried 
greatness, and twine a single laurel in the cypress that overhangs 



72 

his sepulchre of glory. May the worshipper of after years approach 
that hallowed shrine with no empty offering of idle curiosity, — no 
vain and soulless orisons, — but with grateful and devout homage 
may the pilgrims of another age journey with reverent adoration 
to that consecrated spot, and, arched upon its humble tablet, read, 
in that simple but significant epitah, " I still live!" — the high, pro- 
phetic record of the last and sublimest victory of his life — that of 
the unblenching spirit over death. 

The Bun that illumined that planet of clay, 

Had sunk in the "west of an unclouded day. 

And the cold dews of Death stood like diamonds of light 

Thickly set in the pale dusky forehead of night ; 

From each gleamed a ray of that fetterless soul, 

Which had bursted its prison, despising control, 

And careering above, o'er earth's darkness and gloom. 

Inscribed, " / still lite," on the arch of the tomb. 

The gleam of that promise shall brighten the page 
Of the Prophet and Statesman thro' each rolling age ; 
H« lives ! prince and peasant shall join the acclaim ; 
No fortune can make him the martyr of Fame. 
He lives I from the grave of the Patriot Greek 
Comes the voice of the dead, which tho' silent, shall speak * 
Light leaps from the cloud which has deepened her gloom. 
And flashes its glance on the arch of his tomb ! 

He lives ! ever lives, in the heai-ts of the Free ; 
The wing of his fame spreads across the broad sea ; 
He lives where the banner of Freedom's unfurled ; 
The pride of New England — the wealth of the world I 
Thou land of the Pilgrim I how hallowed the bed 
Where thy Patriot sleeps, and thy heroes have bled I 
Let age after age in perennial blrora 
Braid the light of Ihy stars on tho arch of his tomb I 



73 



ADAMS AND JEFFERSON, 

DELIVERED AUGUST 2d, 1826. 



This is an unaccustomed spectacle. For tlie firet time, fellow citizens, 
badges of mourning shroud tlie columns and overhang the arches of this Hall. 
These walls, which were consecrated, so long ago, to the cause of American 
liberty, which witnessed her infant struggles, and rimg with the shouts of her 
earliest victories, proclaim now that distinguished friends and champions of 
that great cause have fallen. It is right that it should be thus. The tears 
which flow, and the honors that are paid, when the Founders of the Republic 
die, give hope that the Republic itself may be immortal. It is fit, that by 
pubhc assembly and solemn observance, by anthem and by eulogy, we com- 
memorate the services of national benefactor, extol their virtues, and render 
thanks to God for eminent blessings, early given and long continued, to our 
favored country. 

AoAMS and Jefferson are now no more; and we are assembled, fellow 
citizens, the aged, the middle aged and the young, by the spontaneous impulse 
of all, under the authority of the municipal government, with the presence of 
the chief magistrate of the Commonwealth, and othei-s its official representa- 
tives, the univei-sity, and the learned societies, to bear our paii, in those mani- 
festations of respect and gratitude which universally pervade the land. Adams 
and Jefferson are no more. On our fiftieth anniversary, the great day of 
National JubUee, in the very hour of public rejoicing, in the midst of echoing 
and re-echoing voices of thanksgiving, while their own names were on all 
tongues, they took their flight, together to the world of spirits. 

If it be true that no one can safely be pronounced happy while he lives ; if 
that event which terminates life can alone cro^vn its honors and its glory, what 
fehcity is here ! The great Epic of their lives, how happily concluded ! Poe- 
try itself has hardly closed illustrious fives, and finished the career of earthly 
renown, by such a consummation. If we had the power, we could not wish to 
revei-se this dispensation of the Divine Providence. The great objects of life 
were accomplished, the drama was ready to be closed ; it has closed ; our pat 
riots have fallen ; but so fallen, at such age, with such coincidence, on such a 
day, that we cannot rationally laiiient that that end has come, which we knew 
could not be long deferred. 

Neither of these great men, fellow citizens, could have died, at any time, 
without leaving an immense void in our American society. They have been 
so intimately, and for so long a time blended with the history of the countrj, 
especially so united, in our thoughts and recollections, with the events of the 



74 

Revolutiou, tliai tho death of either would have touched the strings of public 
sympathy. We should have felt that one great link, connecting us with 
for^ner tim-^s, was broken; that we had lost sometbingmore, as it were, of the 
nresence of the Revolution itself, and of the act of independence, and were 
driven on, by another great remove, from the days of our country's early dis- 
tinction, to meet posterity, and to mix with the future. Like the mariner, 
whom the ocean and tho winds carry along, till the stai-s which have directed 
his couree, and lighted his pathles.^ way, descend^ one by one, beneath the 
risino- horizon, we bhould h;ue felt that the stream of time had bomo us 
onward, till another groat luminaiy, whose hght had cheered us, and whose 
guidance we had followed, had sunk away from our sight. 

But the concurrence of their death, on the anniversary of Independence, has 
naturally awakened stronger emotions. Both had been presidents, both had 
lived to great age, both were early patriots, and both were distinguished and 
ever honored by their immediate agency in the act of independence. It can- 
not but seem striking and extraordinary, that these two should live to see the 
tiftieth year fi'om the date of that act ; that they should complete that year ; and 
that then, on the day which had ftist hnked forever theh own fame with their 
country's glory, the heavens should open to receive them both at ouce. As 
their lives themselves were the gifts of Providence, who is not wilhng to recog- 
nize in their happy termination as well as in their long continuance, proofs that 
our country, and its benefactors, are objects of His care ? 

Adams 'and Jeffersox, I have saidj^ are no more. As human beings 
indeed, they are no more. They are no more, as in 1776, bold and fearless ad- 
vocates of independence ; no more as on subsequent periods, the head of the 
government ; no more as we have recently seen them, aged and venerable ob- 
jects of admiration and regard. They are no more. They are dead. But 
how little is there, of the great and good, which can die 1 To their country 
they yet live, and live forever. They live in all that perpetuates the remem- 
brance of men on earth ; in the recorded proofs of their own great actions in 
the offspring of their intellect, in tho deep engraved hnes of public gratitude, 
and in the respect and homage of mankind. They Uve in their example ; and 
they live, emphatically, and wiU live in tho influence which their lives and 
efforts, their princii^les and opinions, now exercise, and will continue to exer- 
cise, on the aifau-s of men, not only in their own country, but throughout tho 
civilized world. A superior and commanding human intellect, a truly great 
man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not a temporary flame, burning 
bright for a while, and then expiring, giving place to returning darkness. It 
is rather a spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, with power to enkin- 
dle the common mass of human mind ; so that when it glimmei-s, in its own 
decay, and finally goes out in death, no night follows; but it leaves the world 
all light, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit. Bacon died ; 
but the human understanding, roused by the touch of his miraculous wand, to 
a perception of the true philosophy, and the just mode of inquiring after truth. 
Has kept on its couree, successfully and gloriously, if ewton died ; yet the 
courses of tho spheres aro stiU known, and they yet move on, in the orbits 
wliich he saw, and described for them, in the infinity of space. 

No two men now Uve, fellow-citizens, perhaps it may be doubted, whether 
any two men have ever lived, in one age, who, more than those wo now com- 
memorate, have impressed their own sentiments, in regard to politics and gov- 
ernment, on mankind, infused their own opinions moi'e deeply into the opinions 
of othei's, or jjiven a more lasting direction to the current of human thought. 



75 . 

Their work doth not perish with them. The tree Avblcu they a&sisted to plant, 
will flourish, although they water it and protect it no longer ; for it has struck 
its roots deep, it has sent them to the very centre ; no storm, not of force to 
bui-st the orb, can oveiim-u it; its branches spread wide; they stretch their 
protectmg arms broader and broader, and its top is destined to reach the 
heaveas. ° We are not deceived. There is no delusion^ here. No age wil? 
come, in which it wiU cease to bo seen and felt, on either continent, that f 
mighty step, a great advance, not only in Ameiican aflah?, but in human 
aflairs, was made on the 4th of Jul}-, 1770. And no age will conic, we trust, 
so ignorant or so unjust, as not to see and acknowledge the efficient agcncj 
of those we now honor, for producing that momentous event. 

We are not assembled, therefore, fellow citizens, as men overwhehned with 
calamity by the sudden disruption of the ties of friendship or aftection, or as 
in despak- for the Republic, by the untimely blighting of its hopes. Death 
has not surprised us by an unseasonable blow. Wo have, indeed, seen the 
tomb close, but it has closed only over mature years, over long protracted 
public service, over the weakness of age, and over life itself only when the 
ends of living had been fulfilled. These suns, as they rose slowly, and 
steadily, amidst clouds and storms, in their ascendant, so they have not rushed 
from their meridian, to sink suddenly in the west. Like the mildness, the 
serenity, the continuing benignity of a summer's day, they have gone down 
with slow descending, grateful, long Imgering Hght ; and now that they are 
beyond the visible margin of the world, good omens cheer us from " the 
bright track of their fiery car !" 

There were many points of similarity in the li^'cs and fortunes of theso 
great men. They belonged to the same profession, and had pursued its stu 
dies, and its practice, for unequal lengths of time indeed, but with diligence 
and effect. Both were learned and able lawyers. They were natives and 
inhabitants, respecti\ely, of those two of the colonies, which, at the revolution, 
were the largest and most powerful, and which naturally had a lead in the 
political affairs of the times. When the colonies became, in some degree 
united, by the assembling of a general congress, they were brought to act to- 
gether, in its deliberations, not indeed at the same time, but both at early 
periods. Each had already manifested his attachment to the cause of tlie 
countrj^, as well as his ability to maintain it, by printed addresses, public 
speeches, extensive correspondence, and Avhatever other mode could be adopted 
for the purpose of exposing the encroachments of the British parliament anO 
animating the people to a manly resistance. Both were not only decided, bv*. 
early friends of Independence. While others yet doubted, they were resolved 
where others hesitated, they pressed forward. They were both membei-s ol 
the committee for preparing the Declaration of Independence, and they con 
stituted the sub-committee, appointed by the other members to make tht 
draught. They left their seats in congress, being called to other pubhc em 
ployments, at periods not remote from each other, although one of them i-e 
turned to it, afterwards for a short time. Neither of them was of the assem 
bly of great men which formed the present constitution, and neither was al 
any time member of congress under its provisions. Both have been public 
ministers abroad, both \ace-presidents, and both presidents. These coinciden- 
ces are now singularly crowned and completed. They have died, together 
and they died on the anniversary of liberty. 

When many of us were last in this place, fellow citizens, it was on the day 
of that auniversaiy. We were met to enjoy the festivities belonging to the 
occasion, and to manifest our grateful homage to our pohtical fathers. 



76 

We did not, we could not here, forget our venerable neighbor of Quincji 
We know that we were standing, at a time of high and palmy prosperity, when 
he had stood, in the aours of utmost peiil; that we saw nothing but libertj 
and security, where he had met the frown of power ; that we were enjoyinii 
everything, where he had hazarded everythmg; and just and sincere plauditv 
arose to his name, from the crowds which filled this area, and hung over thes« 
galleries. He whoso grateful duty it was to speak to us, on that day, of thi 
\irtue3 of our fathei-s, had indeed admonished us that time and years wen 
about to le\'el his venerable frame with the dust. But he bade us hope, tha 
" the sound of a nation's joy, rushing from our cities, ringing from our valleyii 
echoing from our hills, might yet break the silence of his aged ear; that th* 
rising blessings of grateful millions might yet visit, with glad light, his decay 
ing vision." Alas ! that vision w£is then closing forever. Alas ! the silencf 
which was then settUno; on that aijed car, was an everlastin<r silence ! For lo 
m the very moment of our festivities, his freed spirit ascended to God who 
gave it ! Human aid and human solace teiTninate at the grave ; or we would 
gladly have borne him upward, on a nation's outspread hands ; we would 
have accompanied him, and with the blessing-a of millions and the prayers of 
millions, commended him to the divine favor. 

While still indulging our thoughts on the coincidence of the death of this 
venerable man with the anniversary of independence, we learn that Jefferson, 
too, has fallen ; and that these aged patriots, these illustrious fellow-laborers, 
had left our world together. May not such events raise the suggestion that 
they are not undesigned, and that Heaven does so order things, as sometimes 
to atti'act strongly the attention, and excite the thoughts of men ? The occur- 
rence has added new interest to our anniversary, and will be remembered in 
tU time to come. 

The occasion, fellow-citizens, requires some account of the hves and servi- 
ces of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. This duty must necessarily be 
performed with great brevity, and in the discharge of it I shall be obhged to 
confine myself, principally, to those pails of their history and character whicli 
belonged to them as public men, 

John Adams was born at Quincy, then part of the ancient town of Brain- 
tree, on the 19th of October, (^Okl Style) 1735. He was a descendant of 
the Puritans, his ancestoi-s havmg early emigrated from England, and settled 
in Massachusetts. Discovering early a strong love of reading and of knowl- 
edge, together with marks of great strength and activity of mind, proper car: 
was taken by his worthy father, to provide for his education. He pursued his 
youthful studies in Braintree, under Mr. Mareh, a teacher whose fortune it was 
that Josiali Quincy, Jr., as well as the subject of these remarks, should receive 
from him his iiLstruction in the rudiments of classical literature. Having been 
admitted, in 1751, a member of Harvard College, Mr. Adams was graduated, 
in course, 1755: and on the catalogue of that institution, his name, at the 
time of his death, wjis second among the living Alumni, being preceded only 
by that of the venerable llolyoke. With what degree of reputation he left 
the Uni\ersity, is not now precisely known. We know only that he was dis- 
tinguished, in a class which numbered Locke and Hemenway among its mem- 
bers. Choosing the law lor his profession, he commenced and prosecuted its 
studies at Worcester, under the direction of Samuel Putnam, a gentleman whom 
ho lias liimself described as an acute man, an able and learned lawyer, and as 
in large profession;d practice at that time. In 1758, he was admitted to the 
bar, and commenced business in Braintree. He is understood to have made 



77 

his first considerable effort, or to La^'c attained liis first signal success, at Ply- 
mouth, on one of those occasions which foi-nish the earliest opportunity for 
distinction to inany young men of the profession, a jury t^ial, and a criminal 
cause. Ilis business naturally gi-ew with his reputation, and his residence in 
the vicinity afforded the opportunity, as his gi-owing eminence gave the power, 
of entering on the larger field of practice which the capital presented. lu 
176G, ,he removed his residence to Boston, still continuing his attendance on 
the neighboring circuits, and not unfrequently called to remote parts of the 
Province. In 1770 his professional firmness was brought to a test of some 
severity, on the application of the British oflicers and soldiers to vmdertake 
then- defence, on the trial of the indictments found against them on account 
of the transactions of the memorable 5th of March. He seems to have 
thought, on this occasion, that a man can no more abandon the proper duties 
of his profession, than he can abandon other duties. The event proved, ihnt 
as he judged well for his own reputation, so he judged well, also, for the in- 
terest and permanent fame of his country. The result of that trial proved 
that notwitlistanding the high degree of excitement then existing, in conse- 
quence of the measm'es of the British government, a jury of Massachusetts 
would not deprive the most reckless enemies, even the officers of that standing 
ai"my, quartered among tjiem, which they so perfectly abhorred, of any part 
of that protection which the law, in its mildest and most indulgent hiterpre- 
tation, afforded to pei'sons accused of crimes. 

Without pursuing Mr. Adam's professional course further, sufiice it to say, 
that on the first establishment of the judicial tribunals under the authority 
of the State, in 1776, he received an ofier of the high and responsible station 
of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. But he was destined for another 
and a diflerent career. From early life the bent of his mind was toward pol- 
itics ; a propensity, which the state of the times, if it did not create, doubtless, 
very much strengthened. Public subjects must have occupied the thoughts 
and filled up the conversation in the circles in which he then moved ; and the 
interesting questions, at that time just arising, could not but seize on a mind, 
hke his, ardent sanguine and patriotic. The letter, fortunately preserved, 
written by him at Worcester, so early as the 12th of October, 1755, is a proof 
of very comprehensive views, and uncommon depth of reflection, in a young 
man not yet quite twenty. In this letter he predicted the transfer of power, 
and the establishment of a new seat of empire in America ; he predicted, 
also, the increase of population in the colonies; and anticipated their naval 
distinction, and foretold that all Europe, combined, could not subdue them. 
All this is said, not on a pubhc occasion, or for effect, but in the style of sober 
and friendly coiTespondence, as the result of his own thoughts. '• I some- 
times retire," said he, at the close of the lettei', " and laying things together, 
form some reflections pleasing to myself. The produce of one of these reve- 
ries you have read above. This prognostication, so early in his ow^n life, so 
early in the history of the country, of independence, of vast increase of num- 
bei-s, of naval force, of such augmented power as might defy aU Europe, is 
remarkable. It is more remarkable, that its author should live to see fulfilled 
to the letter, what could have seemed to others, at the time, but the extrava- 
gance of youthful fancy. His earliest political feelings were thus strongly 
American ; and from this ardent attachment to his native soil he never de- 
parted. 

While still living at Quincy, and at the age of twenty-four, Mr. Adams 
was present, in this to^Ti, on the argimient before the Supreme Court, respect- 



78 

ing Writs of Assistance, and heard the celebrated and patriotic speech of 
jAiiES Otis. Unquestionably that was a masterly performance. 'No flighty 
declamation about liberty, no superficial discussion of popular topics, it was 
learned, penetrating, convinoinf'', constitutional argument, expressed in a strain 
of high and resolute patriotism. He grasped the question, then pending be- 
tween England and her Colonies, with the strength of a hon ; and if he 
sometimes spoiled, it was only because the lion himself is sometimes playful. 
Its success appears to have been as great as its merits, and its impression was 
widely felt. Mr. Adams himself seems ne^■er to have lost the feeling it pro- 
duced, and to have entertained constantly the fullest conviction of its import- 
ant effects. " I do say," he observes, " in the most solemn manner, that Mr. 
Otis's Oration against Writs of Assistance, breathed mto this nation the breath 
of life." 

In 17G5 Mr. Adams laid before the public, what I suppose to be his fii-st 
printed performance, except essays for the periodical press, a Dissertation on 
the Canon and Feudal Law. The object of this work was to show that our 
New England ancestoi-s, in consenting to exile themselves from their native 
land, were actuated, mainly, by the desire of delivering themselves from the 
power of the hierarchy, and from the monarchial and aristocrat ical political 
systems of the other continent ; and to make this ♦I'uth bear, with effect on 
the politics of the times. Its tone is uncommonly bold and animated, for that 
period. He calls on the people, not only to defend, but to study and under- 
stand their rights and privileges; urges earnestly the necessity of diflusing 
general knowledge, invokes the clergy and the bar, the colleges and acade- 
mies, and all othei-s who ha\e the ability and the means, to cx])Gse the insi- 
dious designs of arbitrary power, to resist its ajiproachcs, and to be pei-suaded 
that there is a settled design on foot to enslave all America. " Be it remem- 
bered," says the author, " that liberty must, at all hazard^^, be suppoited. We 
have a rioht to it derived from our Maker. But if we had not, our fathers 
ha\'e earned it, and bought it for us, at the expense of then- ease, their es- 
tate, their pleasure and their blood. And liberty cannot be preser^•cd with- 
out a general knowledge among the people, who have a right, from the frame 
of their nature, to knowledge, as their great Creator, who does nothing in 
vain, has given them imderstandings, and a desire to know ; but besides this, 
they have a right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible right to that most 
dreaded and envied kind of knowledge, I mean of the character and conduct 
of their ndere. Pailci-s are no more than attorneys, agents, and trustees of 
the people ; and if the cause, the interest and trust, is 'insidiously betrayed, or 
wantonly trifled away, the people have a right to revoke the authority, that 
they them3elves have deputed, and to constitute otlier and better agents, at- 
torneys and trustees." 

Tlio citizens of this town conferred on Mr. Adams his first pohtical dis- 
tinction, and clothed hhn with his first political trust, by electing him one of 
their representatives, in 1 770. Before this time he had become extensively 
known throughout tlic province, as well by the part he had acted in relation 
to public affairs, as by the exercise of his ] irofessional ability. He was among 
those who took the deepest interest in the controversy with Englnid, and 
whether in or out of the Legislature, his time and talents were alike -'ovoted 
to the cnuso. In the years 1773 and 1774 he was chosen a counsell< ••. by 
the mcmbere of the General Court, but rejected by Governor Hutchin-soi:. 'a 
the fonner of those years, and by Governor Gage m the latter. 

The time was now at hand, however, when the aft'aii-s of the colonies ur- 



79 

gently demanded united councils. An open rupture wit'i the parent State 
appeai'ed inevitable, and it was but the dictate of prudeuj't), that those who 
were united by a common interest and a common dimger, should protect that 
interest and guard against tliat danger, by united effoi'ts. A ,general Con- 
gress of Delegates from all the colonies, haviug been proposed and agreed to, 
the House of Representatives, on the iTth of June, lY74, elected J.vmes 
BowDoix, Thomas Cusiiixg, Samuel Adams, John Adams, and Robert 
Treat Paine, delegates from Massachusetts. This appointment M-a| macle 
:it Salem, wbere the General Court had been convened by Governor Gage, in 
the last horn" of the existence of a House of Representatives under the pro- 
vincial Charter. While engaged in this important business, the governor 
ha\iug been infoiTued of what was passing, sent his secretary with a message 
dissolving the General Court. The secretary finding the door locked, directed 
the messenger to go in and inform the speaker that the secretary was at the 
door with a messao-e from the ffovernor. The messenorer returned, and in- 
formed the secretary that the orders of the House were that the doors should 
be kept fast ; whereupon the secretary soon after read a proclamation, dissol- 
ving the General Court upon the stahs. Thus temiinated, forever, the actual 
exercise of the political power of England in or over Massachusetts. The 
four last named delegates accepted then- appointments, and took their seats 
in Congress, the first day of its meeting, September 5, 1774, in Phila- 
delphia. 

The proceedings of the first Congress aio well known, and have been uni- 
versally admired. It is in vain that we would look for superior proofs of 
wisdom, talent, and patriotism. Lord Chatham said, that for himself, he 
must declare, that he had studied and admired the free states of antiquity, 
the master states of the world, but that for sohdity of reasoning, force of 
sagacity, and wisdom of conclusion, no body of men could stand in preference 
to this Congress. It is hardly inferior praise to say, that no production of that 
gTeat man himself can be pronounced superior to several of the papers pub- 
lished as the proceedings of this most able, most finn, most patriotic assem- 
bly. There is, indeed, nothing superior to them in the range of political dis- 
quisition. They not only embrace, illustrate, and enforce everything which 
political philosophy, the love of liberty, and the spirit of free inquiry had an- 
tecedently produced, but they add new and striking views of their own, and 
apply the whole, with irresistible force, in support of the cause which had 
di-awn them together. 

Mr. Adams was a constant attendant on the deliberations of this bodv, and 
bore an active part m its important measures. He was of the committee to 
state the rights of the colonies, and of that also which reported the address 
to the kino;. 

As it was in the continental Congress, fellow-citizens, that those whose 
deaths have given rise to this occasion, were fii-st brought together, and called 
on to imite their industry and their ability, in the service of the country, let 
us now turn to the other of these distinguished men, and take a brief notice 
of his life, up to the period when he appeared within the walls of Congress. 

Thomas Jefferson, descended from ancestors who had been settled in 
Virginia for some generations, was bom near the spot on which he died, in 
the county of Albermale, on the 2d of April, (Old Style,) 1743. His youth- 
ful studies were pui-sued in the neighboj-hood of his fatlier's residence, until 
he was removed to the college of William and Mary, the highest honors of 
which, he in due time received. Having left the college with reputation, he 



80 

applied Linisolf to the study of law, under the tuition of George Wythe, one 
of the highest judicial names of which that State can boast At an earlv 
age he was elected a member of the Legislatuie, in ^^ hich he had no sooner 
appeared than he distinguished himself, by knowledge capacity, and promp- 
titude. 

Mr. JefTei-son appears to have been imbued Avith an early love of lettei^ 
and science, and to ha\e cherished a strong disposition to pui-sue these ob- 
jects. To the physical sciences, especially, and to ancient classic literatm-e, he 
is undefetood to have had a wanu attachment, and never enthely to have lost 
sight of them, in the midst of the busiest occupations. But the times were 
tunes for action, rather than for contemplation. The countiy was to" be de- 
fended, and to be saved before it could be enjoyed. Philosophic leisure and 
literary pursuits, and even the objects of professional attention, were all noc- 
essai'Uy postponed to the urgent calls of the public service. The exigency of 
the country made the siuue demand on Mr. Jefferson that it made on others 
who had the abihty and the disposition to serve it; and he obeyed the call; 
thinking and feeling, in this respect, Avith the great Roman orator ; Quis enim 
est tain cnpidus in j)erspicienda cognoscendaquc rervin natiira, ut, si ei trac- 
tanta contemjilantique res cognitione dignissimas suhito sit allaium 2Jcyicu- 
Inm discrimenque patrice, cui suhvenire opitxdariq^ie possit, non ilia omnia 
relinquat atqiie abjiciat, ctiam si dinumerare se Stellas, aut metira mundi 
magnitudinem posse arhitretur ? 

Entering, with all his heart, into the cause of liberty, his abihty, patriotism, 
and power with the pen, naturally drew upon him a large participation in the 
most important concerns. Wherever he was, there w;is found a soul devoted 
to the cause, power to defend and maintain it, and willingness to incur all its 
hazards. In 1774 he pubhshed a Summary View of the Riglits of British 
America, a valuable production among those intended to show the dangere 
which threatened the liberties of the country, and to encourage the people in 
their defence. In June 1775 he was elected a member of the Continental 
Congi-ess, as successor to Peyton RANDOLni, who had rdired on account of 
ill health, and took his seat in that body on the 21st of the same month. 

And now, fellow citizens, without pursuing the biography of these illustri- 
ous men further, for the present, let us turn our attention to the most promi- 
nent act of their lives, their particii)ation in the DECLARATION OF IN- 
DEPENDENCE. 

Preparatory to the iiib'oduction of that important measure, a committee, at 
the head of which was Mr. Adams, had reported a resolution, "which Con- 
gress adopted the 10th of May, recommending in substance, to all the colo- 
nic i which had not already established governments suited to the exigencies 
of their afiaii-s, to adopt such governinent, as tvovld, in the opinion of the 
re^rrescntatives of the peo2jh, best conduce to the happiness and safety of 
tlipir constituents in particular, and America in general. 

This sigiiificant vote wjis soon followed by the direct proposition, which 
Rici^AUD HENitY Lee had the honor to submit to Congress, by resolution, 
on the 7th day of June. The published journal does not expreasly state it, 
but there is no doubt, I suppos<>, that this resolution was in tlfe same vrords. 
when originally submitted by AL'. Lee, as when finally pnssed. Having beei) 
discussed, on Saturday the 8th, and Monday the 10th of Juno, this resolution 
was on the last mentioned day postponed, for further consideration, to the firsl 
day of July; and, at the same time it was voted, that a committee be ap 
pointed to prepai-o a declaration, to the effect of the resolution. This com- 



81 

Giittee was elected by ballot, on the following day, and consisted of Thomas 
Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Ro- 
bert R. Livingston. 

It is usual, when committees are elected by ballot, tbat tbcir names are 
arranged, in order, according to the number of votes which each has received. 
Mr. Jefferson, therefore, had received the highest, and Mr. Adams the next 
highest number of votes. The difference is said to have been but of a single 
vote Mr. Jeftei-son and Mr. Adams, standing thus at the head of the com- 
mittee, were requested, by the other members, to act as a sub-committee, to 
prepare the di-aught ; and Mr. Jefferson drew up the paper. The original 
draught, as brought by him from his study, and submitted to the other mem- 
bers of the committee, with interlineations in the hand-writing of Dr. Frank- 
lin, and others in that of Mr. Adams, was in Mr. Jefferson's possession at the 
time of his death. The merit of this paper is Mr. Jefferson's. Some changes 
were made in it, on the suggestion of other members of the committee, and 
others by Congi-ess while it was under discussion. But none of them altered 
the tone, the frame, the an-angement, or the general character of the instru- 
ment. As a composition, the declaration is Mr. Jefferson's. It is the pro- 
duction of his mind, and the high honor of it belongs to him, clearly and 
absolutely. 

It has sometimes been said, as if it were a derogation from the merits of 
this paper, that it contains nothing new ; that it only states grounds of pro- 
ceeding, and presses topics of argument, which had often been stated and pres- 
sed before. But it was not the object of the Declaration to produce any 
thing new. It was not to invent reasons for independence, but to state those 
which governed the Congi-ess. For great and sufficient causes, it was pro- 
posed to declare independence ; and the proper business of the paper to be 
drawn was to set forth those causes, and justify the authors ^f the measure, 
in any event of fortune, to the country and to posterity. The cause of Ameri- 
can independence, moreover, was now to be presented to the world in such man- 
ner, if it might so be, as to engage its sympathy, to command its respect, to at- 
tract its admiration ; and in an assembly of most able and distinguished men, 
Thomas Jefferson had the high honor of being the selected advocate of 
this cause. To say that he performed his great work well, would be doing 
him injustice. To say that he did excellently well, admii-ably well, would be 
inadequate and halting praise. Let us rather say, that he so discharged the 
duty assigned him, that all Americans may well rejoice that the work of 
drawing the title deed of their liberties devolved on his hands. 

With all its merits, there are those who have thought that there was one 
thing in the declaration to be regretted ; and that is, the asperity and appa- 
rent anger with which it speaks of the person of the king; the industrious 
ability with which it accumulates and charges upon him, all the injuries which 
the colonies had suffered from the mother country. Possibly some degree of 
injustice, now or hereaftei, at home or abroad, may be done to the chaiacter 
of Mr. Jefferson, if this part of the declaration be not placed in its proper 
hght. Anger or resentment, certainly, much less personal reproach and in- 
vective, could not properly find place, in a composition of such high diguit}-, 
and of such lofty and permanent character. 

A single reflection on the original ground of dispute between England and 
the Colonies is sufficient to remove any unfavorable impression in this respect 

The inhabitants of aU the Colonies, while Colonies, admitted themselves 
bound by theu' allegiance to the king ; but they disclaimed altogether the 
6 



82 

authority of Parliament; holding thenaselves, in this respect, to resemble the 
condition of Scotland and Ireland before the respective unions of those king- 
doms with England, when they acknowledged allegiance to the same king, but 
had each its separate legislatm-e. The tie, therefore, which om- Revolution 
was to to break did not subsist between us and the British Parliament, or be- 
tween us and the British Government in the aggregate?, but dh-ectly between 
us and the king himself. 

The Colonies had never admitted themselves subject to Parliament. That 
was precisely the point of the original controversy. They had uniformly de- 
nied that Parliament had authority to make laws for them. There was, 
therefore, no subjection to Pai-liament to be thrown off. But allegiance to 
the king (.lid exist, and had been unifonnly acknowledged; and down to 1775 
the most solemn assurances had been given that it was not intended to break 
that allegiance or throw it off. Therefore, as the dhect object and only effect 
of the Declaration, according to the principles on which the controverey had 
been maintained on our part, were to sever the tie of allegiance which bound 
us to the king, it was properly and necessarily founded on acts of the crown 
itself, as its jiStifying causes. Parliament is not so much as mentitonedin the 
whole instrument. When odious and oppressive acts are referred to, it is done 
by charging the king with confederating with others " in pretended acts of 
legislation""; the object being constantly to hold the king hunself dh-ectly 
responsible for those measm-es which were the grounds of separation. _ Even 
the precedent of the English Revolution was not overlooked, and in this case, 
as well as in that, occasion was found to say that the kmg had abdicated the 
goveroment. Consistency with the principles upon which resistance began, 
and with all the previous stat« papers issued by Congress, required that the 
Declaration should be bottomed on the misgovernment of the king; and 
therefore it wa^ properly fi-amed with that aim and to that end. The king 
was known, mdeed, to have act,ed, as m other cases, by his ministers, and with 
his Parliament; but as our ancestoi-s had never achnitted themselves subject 
either to minister or to ParUameut, tnere were no reasons to be given for now 
refusing obedience to their authority. This clear and obvious necessity of 
founding the Declaration on the misconduct of the king himself, gives to that 
instniment its personal application, and its character of dh-ect and pointed 
accusation. 

The Declaration having been reported to Congress by the committee, the 
resolution itself was taken up and debated on the firet day of July, and agam 
on the second, on which last day it was agreed to and adopted, in these 
words : — 

''Resolved, That the United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, 
free and independent States; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the 
British crown, and that all political connection between them and the state 
of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." 

ILuing thus passed tlie main resolution, Congress proceeded to consider the 
reported ''draught of the Declaration. It was discussscd on the second, and 
third, and fourth days of the month, in committee of the whole; and on the 
last of those days, being reported from that committee, it recei^■ed the final 
approbation and sanction of Congi'Ct*. It was ordered, at the same time, that 
copies be sent to the several States, and that it be proclaimed at the head of 
the ai-my. The Dc>claration thus pul)hshed did not bc;ir the names of the 
members, for as yet it had not been signed by them. It was authenticated, 
like other papers of the Congress, by the signatures of the President and Sec- 



83 

retary. On tlie 19tli of July, as appeai-s by the secret journal, Congress 
" Resolved^ That the Declaration, passed on the fourth, be fau-ly engi-ossed on 
parchment, with the title and style of 'The unanimous Declaration of 
THE Thirteen United States of America' ; and that the same, when en- 
grossed, be signed by every member of Congi-ess." And on the second day 
OF August following, " the Declaration, being engi-ossed and compared at the 
table, was signed by the member's." So that it happens, fellow-citizens, that 
we pay these honors to then- memory on the anniversary of that day (2d of 
August) on which these gTeat men actually signed then- names to the De- 
claration. The Declaration was thus made, that is, it passed, and was adopted 
as an act of Congi-ess, on the fourth of July ; it was then signed, and cei'tified 
by the President and Secretaiy, like .other acts. The Fourth of July, 
therefore, is the anniversary of the Declaration. But the signatures 
of the members present were made to it, being then engi-ossed on pai-chment, 
on the second day of August. Absent members aftei-wards signed, as they 
came in; and indeed it beai-s the names of some who were not chosen mem- 
bers of CongTCss until after the fom-th of July. The interest belonging to the 
subject, will be sufficient, I hope, to justify these details. 

The Congress of the Revolution, fellow-citizens, sat with closed doors, and 
no report of its debates was ever made. The discussion, therefore, which 
accompanied this great measm-e, has never been preserved, except in memory 
and by ti-adition. But it is, I believe, doing no injustice to others to say, that 
the general opinion was, and uniformly has been, that in debate, on the side 
of independence, " John Adams had no equal. The great author of the 
Declaration himself has expressed that opinion uniformly and strongly. 
" John Adams," said he, in the hearing of him who has now the honor to 
address you, " John Adams was om- colossus on the floor. Not gi-aceful, not 
elegant, not always fluent, in his public addi-esses, he yet came out Avith a 
power, both of thought and of expresssion, whidi moved us from om- seats," 

For the part which he was here to perfoi-m, Mr. Adams doubtless was emi- 
nently fitted. He possessed a bold spirit which disregarded danger, and a 
sanguine reliance on the goodness of the cause, and the virtues of the peojjlo, 
which led him to overlook all obstacles. His character, too, had been foi'med 
in troubled times. He had been rocked in the early storms of the controvers)', 
and had acquired a decision and a hardihood proportioned to the severity of 
the discipline which he had undergone. 

He not only loved the American cause devoutly, but had studied and un- 
derstood it. It w^as all famihar to him. He had tried his powers on the 
questions which it mvolved, often and in various ways; and brought to their 
consideiation whatever of argument or illustration the history of his own 
country, the history of England, or the stores of ancient or legal learning 
could furnish. Every grievance enumerated in the long catalogue of the De- 
claration had been the subject of his discussion, and the object of his remon- 
strance and reprobation. From 1760, the Colonies, the rights of the Coloniet^ 
the hberties of the Colonies, and the wrongs inflicted on the Colonies, liad 
engaged his attention; and it has siu-jn-ised those who have the opportunity 
of Witnessing it, with what full remembrance, and with what prompt recollec- 
tion he could refer, in his extreme old age to every act of Parliament affecting 
the Colonies, distnguishing and stating then- respective titles, sections and 
provisions; and to all the Colonial memorials, remonstrances, and petitions, 
with whatever else belonged to the ultimate and exact history of the times 
from that year to 1775. It was, in his owiyudgment, between these years 



84 

that the American people came to a full understanding and thorougli knowl- 
edge of their rights, and a fixed resolution of maintaming them ; and bearing 
himself an active part in all important transactions, the controverey with Eng- 
land being then in effect the business of his life, facts, dates, and particulars 
made an impression -which was never effaced. He was prepared, therefore, 
by education and discipline, as well as by natural talent and natural tempera- 
ment, for the part which he was now to act. 

The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character, and formed, 
indeed, a part of it. It was bold, manly, and energetic ; and such the crisis 
required. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, 
wlien great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valu- 
able in speech farther than as it is connected with high intellectual and moral 
endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the qualities which pro- 
duce conviction. True eloquence, does not consist in speech. It cannot be 
brought from far. Labor and leai-ning may toil for it, but they will toil in 
vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot 
compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. 
Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may asphe to 
it; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of 
a fountain from the eailh, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with sponta- 
neous, oi-iginal, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly 
ornaments and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when 
their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their countiy, 
hang on the decision of the horn-. Then words have lost theh power, rheto- 
ric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then 
feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then 
patriotism is eloquent ; then self devotion is eloquent. The clear conception, 
outrunning the deductions of logic, the high pui-pose, the firm resolve, the 
dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing 
every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object — 
this, this is eloquence ; or rather it is something greater and higher than all 
eloquence, it is action, noble, subhme, godlike action. 

In July, 1776, the controversy had passed the stage of argument. An ap- 
peal had been made to force, and opposing annies were in the field. Con- 
gress, then, was to decide whether the tie which had so long boimd us to the 
parent state was to be severed at once, and severed forever. All the Colo- 
onies had signified their resolution to abide by this decision, and the people 
looked for it with the most intense anxiety. And surely, fellow-citizens, never, 
never were men called to a more important political deliberation. If we con- 
template it from the point where they then stood, no question could be more 
full of interest; if wo look at it now, and judge of its importance by its 
effects, it appears of still greatei' magnitude. 

Let us, then, bring before us the assembly, which was about to decide a 
question thus big with the fate of empire. Let us open their doora and look 
iu upon their dehberations. Let us survey the anxious and care-worn coun- 
■ tenanccs, let us hear the firm-toned voices, of this band of patriots. 

Hancock presides over the solemn sitting; and one of those not yet pre- 
pared to pronounce for absolute independence is on the floor, and is urging his 
reasons for dissenting from the declaration. 

" Let us pause ! This step, once taken, can never be retraced. This reso- 
Iiition, once passed, will cut off all hope of a reconciliation. If success attend 
(he arms of !fingland, wo sha^then be no longer colonics, with charters and 



85 

lM;i\ileges; these will all be forfeited by tliis act; and we shall be in tlie 
condition of other conquered people, at the mere y of the conquerors. For 
ourselves, we may be ready to run the hazard; but are we ready to carry the 
country to that length ? Is success so pnobable as to justify it ? Where 
is the mihtary, where the naval power, by which we are to resist the 
whole strength of the ai-m of England, for she will exert that strength to the ' 
utmost ? Cau we rely on the constancy and perseverance of the people ? or 
will they not act as the people of other countries have acted, and wearied with 
a long war, submit, in the end, to a worse oppression ? While we stand on 
our own groimd, and insist on redress of grievances, we know we are right, and 
are not answerable for consequences. Nothing, then, can be imputed to us. 
But if we now change om- object, carry our pretensions farther, and set up for 
absolute independence, we shall lose the sympathy of mankind. We shall no 
longer be defending what we possess, but struggling for something which we 
never did possess, and which we have solemnly and uniformly disclaimed all 
intention of pursuing, fi-om the very outset of the ti-oubles. Abandoning 
thus our old ground, of resistance only to arbitrary acts of oppression, the 
nations wiU beheve the whole to have been mere pretence, and they will look 
on us, not as injm-ed, but as ambitious subjects. I shudder before this respon- 
sibility. It will be on us, if, rehnquishing the ground on which we have stood 
so safely, we now proclaim independence, and carry on the war for that object, 
while these cities hum, these pleasant fields whiten and bleach with the bones 
of their owners, and these streams nm blood. It will be upon us, it will be 
upon us, if, failing to maintain this unseasonable and ill-judged declaration, a 
sterner despotism, maintained by mihtary power, shall be established over our 
posterity, when we oui-selves, given up by an exhausted, a han-assed, a misled 
people, shall have expiated our rashness and atoned for our presumption on 
the scaffold." 

It was for Mr. Adams to reply to arguments like these. We know his 
opinions, and we know his character. He would commence with his accus- 
tomed directness and earnestness. 

" Sink or swim, hve or die, sundve or perish, I give my hand and my heart 
to this vote. It is true, indeed that in the beginning that we aimed not at 
independence. But there's a Divinity which shapes our ends. The injustice 
of England has driven us to anus; and, blinded to her own interest for our 
good, she has obstinately pei-sisted, till independence is now within our grasp. 
We have but to reach forth to it, and it is oui-s. Why, then should we defer 
the Declaration ? Is any man so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation 
with England, which shall leave either safety to the country and its liberties, 
or safety to his own hfe and honor ? Are not you, sir, who sit hi that chair, 
is not he, our venerable colleague near you, are you not both aheady the pro- 
scribed and predestined objects of punishment and vengeance ? Cut off from 
all hope of royal clemency, what are you, wh<it can you be, while the power 
of England remains, but outlaws ? If we postpone independence, do we mean 
to cany on, or give up, the war ? Do we mean to submit to the measures of 
ParUament, Boston Port Bill and all ? Do we mean to submit, and consent 
that we oui-selves shall be gi-oimd to powder, and our country and its rights 
trodden down in the dust ? I know we do not mean to submit. Wo never 
shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most solenm obhgation ever en- 
tered into by men, that plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Wash- 
ington, when putting him forth to incur the dangers of War, as well as the 
political hazards of the times, we promised to adhere to him, in every ex- 



86 

trorajty, with our fortunes and our lives! I know there is not a man here, 
who would not rather see a general conflagration sweep over the land, or an 
earthquake sink it, than one jot or tittle of that plighted faith fiall to the 
ground. For myseh', having, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, 
that George Washino-ton be appomted commander of the forces raised, or to 
be raised,°for defence of American liberty, may my right hand forget her 
cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or 
wa\ or in the support 1 give him. 

« The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And if the 
war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of Independence ? That 
measure will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. The nations 
will treat with us, which they can never do while we acknowledge omselves 
subjects, in arms agamst our sovereign. Nay, I maintam that England heiself 
will sooner treat for peace with us on the footing of independence, than consent, 
by repeahng her acts, to acknowledge that her whole conduct towards us has 
been a com^e of injustice and oppression. Her pride will be less woimded 
by submittmg to that coui-se of things which now predestinates our indepen- 
dence, than by yielding the points in controversy to her rebellious subjects. 
The fonner she woidd regard as the result of fortime; the latter she would 
feel as her own deep disgrace. Why, then, why then, Sir, do we not as soon 
as possible change this from a civil to a national war ?_ And smce we must 
fight it tlu-ongh, why not put oui-selves in a state to enjoy all the benefits, of 
victory, if we gain the victory ? 

« If we fail, it can bo no woi-se for us. But we shall not fail. The cause 

will raise up armies; the cause will create navies. The people, the people, if 

we are true to them, will caiTy us, and will cany themselves, gloriously through 

this stniggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I k-npw 

the people of these Colonies, and I know that resistance to British aggTCssion 

is deep and settled in their hearts and cannot bo eradicated. Every Colony, 

indeed, has expressed its willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, 

the Declaration will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of a 

long and bloody war for the restoration of privileges, for redress of gnevan- 

ces, for chartered immunities, held under a British kmg, set before them the 

glorious object of entire independence, and it will breath into them anew the 

breath of life. Read this Declaration at the head of the army; every sword 

will be dra^vn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered, to maintam it, 

or to peiish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpit; rehgion will 

approve it, and the love of rehgious liberty will chng round it, resolved to 

stand with it or fall with it. Send it to the public halls; proclaim it there; 

let them hear it who heard the first roar of the enemy's cannon ; let them see 

it who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and 

in the street of Lexington and Concord, and the veiy walls will cry out in its 

support. . 

" Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs, but I see, I see cleai-ly, 
through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not 
live to the time when this Declaration shaU be made good. We may die ; die 
colonists; die slaves; die, it may be, ignominiously and on the scaffold. Bo 
it 80. Be it so. If it bo the pleasure of Heaven that my countiy shall re- 
quire tlie poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready, at the appointed 
hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do hve, let me 
have a countiy, or at least the hope of a countiy, and that a free countiy. 
« But Tvhatever may be our fate, be assui-ed, be assured that this Declara- 



87 



tion will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood ; but it will stand, 
and it will riclily compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the pres- 
ent, I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall uiako 
this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in our graves, om- childi-_eu 
will honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgivmg, with festivity, with 
bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual retiu-n they will shed teai-s, copious, 
gushing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but oi 
exultatfon, of gTatitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I behevo the hour is 
come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. 
All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this life, I am now 
ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off as I begun, that live or die, sur- 
vive or pei-ish, I am for the Declaration. It is my hvmg sentunent, and by the 
blessing of God it shall be my dying sentunent. Independence, now, and In- 



dependence FOR. ever" 



And so that day shall be honored, illustrious prophet and patriot ! so that 
day shall be honored, and as often as it retmnis, thy renown shall come along 
with it, and the glory of thy life, like the day of thy death, shah not fail from 
the remembrance of men. 

It would be unjust, fellow-citizens, on this occasion, while we express our 
veneration for him who is the immediate subject of these remarks, were wo 
to omit a most respectful, affectionate, and grateful mention of those other 
great men, his colleagues, who stood with him, and with the same sphit, the 
same devotion, took part in the mteresting transaction. Hancock, the pro- 
scribed Hancock, exiled from his home by a military governor, cut off by 
proclamation from the mercy of the crown, — Heaven reserved for him the 
honor of putting this great question to the vote, and of writmg his own name 
first, and most conspicuously, on that parchment which spoke defiance to the 
power of the crown of England. There, too, is the name of that other pro- 
scribed .patriot, Samuel Adams, a man who himgered and thii-sted for the 
independence of his country ; who thought the Declaration halted and lin- 
gered, bemg hunself not only ready, but eager for it, long before it was pro- 
posed; a man of the deepest sagacity, the clearest foresight, and the profound- 
est judgment in men. And there is Gerrtj himself among the earhest and 
the foremost of the patriots, found when the battle of Lexington summoned 
them to common counsels; by the side of Warren; a man who_ lived to serve 
his country at home and abroad, and to die in the second place in the govern- 
ment. There, too, is the mflexible, the upright, the Spartan character, Robert 
Treat Paine. He also lived to serve his country through the struggle, and 
then withdrew from.her councils, only that he might give his labore and his life 
to his native State, in another relation. These names, fellow-citizens, are the 
treasures of the Commonwealth; and they are treasures which gi'ow brightei 

by time. 

. • It is now necessary to resume the narrative, and to finish with great brevity 
* the notice of the lives of those whoso virtues and services we have met to 
commemorate. 

Mr. Adams remained in Congress from its fii-st meeting till November, 1 7 Y7, 
when he was appointed Minister to France. He proceeded on that service in 
the February following, embarking in the frigate Boston, from the shore of 
his native town, at the foot of Mount Wollaston. The year following, he was 
appointed commissioner to treat of peace with England. Returning to the 
United States, he was a delegate from Braintrce in the Convention for fra- 
ming the Constitution of this Commonwealth, in 1780. At the latter end 



88 

of the same year, he again went abroad in the diplomatic senice of the coun- 
try, and was employed at various courts, and occupied with vaiious negocia- 
tions, until 1788. The particulars of these interesting and important sers'icea 
this occasion does not allow time to relate. In 1782 he concluded our first 
treaty with Holland. His negociations with that repubhc, his efforts to per- 
suade the States- General to recognize our independence, his incessant and in- 
defatigable exertions to represent the American cause favorably on the Conti- 
nent, and to counteract the designs of its enemies, open and secret, and his 
successful undertaking to obtain loans, on the credit of a nation yet new and 
unknown, are among his most arduous, most useful, most honorable services. 
It was his fortune to bear a part in the negociation for peace with England, 
and in something more than six yeare from the Declaration which he had so 
strenuously supported, he had the satisfaction of seeing the minister plenipo- 
tentiary of the crown subscribe his name to the instmment which declared 
that his "Britannic Majesty acknowledged the United States to be free, sover- 
eign, and independent." In these important transactions, Mr. Adams' con- 
duct received the marked approbation of Congress and of the country. 

While abroad, in 1787, he pubhshed his Defence of the American Con- 
stitutions ; a work of merit and ability, though composed with haste, on the 
spur of a particular occasion, in the midst of other occupations, and under cir- 
cumstances not admitting of careful revision. The immediate object of the 
work was to counteract the weight of opinions advanced by several popular 
European writers of that day, M. Tin-got, the Abbe de Mably, and Dr. Price, 
at a time when the people of the United States were employed in forming and 
revising their systems of government. 

Returning to the United States in 1788, he found the new government 
about going into operation, and was himself elected the first Vice President, a 
situation which he filled with reputation for eight yeai-s, at the expu-ation of 
which he was raised to the Presidential chair, as immediate successor to the 
immortal Washington. In this high station he was succeeded by Mr. Jeffer- 
son, after a memorable controversy between theu* respective friends, in 1801 ; 
and from that period his manner of hfe has been known to all who hear me. 
He has Mved for five-and-twenty years, with every enjoyment that could ren- 
der old age happy. Not inattentive to the occiurences of the times, poUtical 
cares have yet not materially, or for any long time, disturbed his repose. In 
18^0 he acted as elector of President and Vice President, and in the same 
year we saw him, then at the age of eighty-five, a member of the Convention 
of this Commonwealth called to revise the Constitution. Forty yeai-s before^ 
he had been one of those who fonned that Constitution ; and he had now the 
])leasure of witnessing that there was little which the people deshed to change. 
Possessing all his faculties to the end of liis long life, with an unabated love 
of reading and contemplation, in the centre of interesting circles of friendship 
and affection, ho was blessed in his retirement with whatever of repose and 
felicity the condition of man allows. He had, also, other enjojmients. He 
saw around him that prosperity and general happiness which had been the 
object of his public cares and labors. No man ever beheld more clearly, 
and for a longer time, the gTcat and beneficial effects of the services rendered 
by himself to his country. That liberty which he so early defended, that in- 
dependence of which he was so able an advocate and supporter, he saw, we 
trust, finnly and securely established. The population of the countiy thick- 
ened around him faster, and extended wider, than his own sanguine predic- 
tions had anticipated; and the wealth, respectability, and power of the nation 



89 

sprang up to a magnitude which it is quite impossible he could have expected 
to witaess in his day. He lived also to behold those principles of civil free- 
dom which had been developed, established, and practically applied in Amer- 
ica, attract attention, command respect, and awaken imitation, in other regions 
of the globe; and well might, and well did he exclaim, " Where will the con- 
sequences of the American Revolution end ? " 

If any thing yet remains to fill this cup of happiness, let it be added, that 
he lived to see a great and intelligent people bestow the highest honor in their 
gift where he had bestowed his own kindest parental affections and lodged his 
fondest hopes. Thus honored in life, thus happy at death, he saw the jubilee, 
and he died ; and with the last prayers which trembled on his hps was the 
fervent supphcation for his country, " Independence for ever ! " 

Mr. Jefferson, having been occupied in the years 1778 and 1779 in the im- 
portant service of revising the laws of Virginia, was elected Governor of that 
State, as successor to Patrick Henry, and held the situation when the State 
was invaded by the British arms. In 1781 he pubUshed his Notes on Vir- 
ginia, a work which attracted attention in Em-ope as well as America, dispelled 
many misconceptions respecting this continent, and gave its author a place 
among men distinguished for science. In November, 1783, he again took 
his seat in the Continental Congress, but in May following was appointed 
Minister Plenipotentiary, to act abroad, in the negociation of commercial trea- 
ties, with Dr. Frankhn and Mr. Adams. He proceeded to France in execution 
of this mission, embarking at Boston ; and that was the only occasion on which 
he ever visited this place. In 1785 he was appomted Minister to France, the 
duties of which situation he continued to perform until October, 1789, when 
he obtained leave to rethe, just on the eve of that tremendous revolution which 
has so much agitated the world in om- times. Mr. Jefferson's discharge of his 
diplomatic duties was marked by great abihty, diligence, and patriotism ; and 
while he resided at Paris, in one of the most interesting periods, his charac- 
ter for intelligence, his love of knowledge, and of the society of learned men, 
distinguished him in the highest circles of the French capital. No court^ in 
Europe had at that time in Paris a representative commanding or enjoying 
higher regai-d, for pohtical knowledge or for general attainments, than the 
minister of this then infant republic. Immediately on his return to his native 
country, at the organization of the government under the present Constitution, 
his talents and experience recommended him to President Washington for the 
first oflSce in his gift. He was placed at the head of the Depai-tment of State. 
In this situation, also, he manifested conspicuous ability. His correspondence 
with the ministers of other powers residing here, and his instructions to our 
own diplomatic agents abroad, are among our ablest state papers. A thorough 
knowledge of the laws and usages of nations, perfect acquaintance with the 
immediate subject before him, great felicity, and still greater facility, in wil- 
ting, show themselves in whatever his official situation called on him to make. 
It is believed by competent judges, that the diplomatic intercourse of the gov- 
ernment of the United States, from the first meeting of the Continental Con- 
gress in 1774 to the present time, taken together, would not suffer in respect 
to the talent with which it has been conducted, by comparison with any thing 
which other and older governments can produce; and to the attainment 
of this respectabihty and distinction Mr. Jefferson has contributed his full 
part. 

On the retu-ement of General Washington from the presidency, and the 
election of Mr. Adams to that oflfice, in 1797, ho was chosen Vice-President 



.90 

While presiding, in thia capacity, over the deUberations of the senate, he con.- 
piled and published a Manual of Parliamentaiy Practice, a work of mow 
labor and more merit, than is indicated by its size. It is now received, sb liie 
general standard, by which proceedings are regulated, not only in both Houses 
of Congress, but in most of the other legislative bodies in the countiy. In 
1801, he was elected President, in opposition to ^Mr. Adams, and re-elected in 
1805, by a vote approaching towards unanimity. 

From the tiipe of his final retirement from public hfe, in 1808, Mr. Jeffer- 
son lived as became a wise man. Sun-onnded by afiectionate friends, his 
ai'dor in the pm-suit of knowledge undiminished, with uncommon health, and 
imbroken sphits, he was able to enjoy largely the rational pleasm-es of life, 
and to pailake in that public prosperity, which he had so much contributed to 
produce. His kindness and hospitality, the chann of his conversation, the 
ease of his mamiers, the extent of his acquirements, and especially the full 
store of revolutionary incidents, which he possessed, and which he kiiew when 
and how to dispense, rendered his abode in a high degi-ee attractive to his ad- 
miring countrymen, while his high pubhc and scientific character drew to- 
wards him eveiy intelligent and educated traveller from abroad. Both Mr. 
Adams and Mr. Jeffei-son had the pleasure of snowing that the respect, which 
they so largely received, was not paid to their official stations. They were not 
men made great by office ; but great men, on whom the country for its own 
benefit had conferred office. There was that m them, which office did not 
give, and which the reUnquishment of office, did not, and_ could not take 
away. In their retirement, in the midst of their fellow citizens, themselves 
private citizens, they enjoyed as high regard and esteem, as when filhng the 
most important places of public tnist. 

There remained to Mr. Jeflcrson yet one other work of patriotism and ben- 
eficence, the establishment of a Univei-sity in his native state. To this object 
he devoted years of incessant and anxious attention, and by the enlightened 
liberality of the legislature of Vn-ginia, and the co-operation of other able 
and zealous friends, he lived to see it accomphshed. May all success attend 
this infant seminaiy; and may those who enjoy its advantages, as often as 
their eyes shall rest on the neighbormg height, recollect what they owe to their 
disinterested and mdefatigable benefactor; and may lettei-s honor him who 
thus labored in the cause of letters. 

Thus usefid, and thus respected, passed the old age of Thomas Jefiersou. 
But time was on its ever ceaseless wing, and was now bringing the last hour 
of this illustrious man. He saw its approach, with undisturbed serenity. Ho 
counted the moments, as they passed, and beheld that his last sands were fal- 
ling. That day, too, was at hand, which he had helped to make immortal. 
One wish, one hope— if it were not presimiptuous — beat in his fainting breast. 
Gould it be so— might it please God— he woidd desire— once more— to see 
the sun — once more to look abroad on the scene around him, on the great day 
of libci-ty. Heaven, in its mercy, fulfilled that prayer. He saw that sim— 
he enjoyed its sacred light— he thanked God, for this mercy, and bowed his 
aged head to the grave. " Felix non vita tantum clariiatc, sed etiam op- 
portunitate mortis." 

The last public labor of Mr. Jefferson naturally suggests the expression of 
the high praise which is due, both to him and to Mr. Adams, for their uni- 
form and zealous attachment to learaing, and to the cause of general knowl- 
edge. Of the advantages of learning, indeed, and of literaiy accomplish- 
ments, their own charactei's were striking recommendations, and illustrations. 



01 

They were scholars, ripe and good scholars ; widely acquainted with ancient, 
as well as modem hterature, and not altogether uninstructed in the dee}>ei 
sciences. Their acquirements, doubtless, were different, and so Avere the parti- 
cular objects of their literary pursuits ; as their tastes and characters, in these 
respects, differed like those of other men. Being, also, men of busy lives, with 
great objects, requiring action, constantly before them, then- attamments in 
letters did not become showy, or obtrusive. Yet, I would hazard the opinion, 
that if we could now ascertain all the causes which gave them eminence and 
distmction, in the midst of the great men with whom they acted, we should 
find, not among the least, then- early acquisition in literatiu-e, the resources 
which it furnished, the promptitude and facility which it communicated, and 
the wide field it opened, for analogy and illustration ; giving them,_ thus, on 
every subject, a larger view, and a broader range, as well for discussion, aa for 
the government of their own conduct. 

Literature sometimes, and pretensions to it much oftener, disgusts, by ap- 
pearing to hang loosely on the chai-acter, Uke something foreign or extraneous, 
not a °part, but an ill-adjusted appendage; or by seemmg to overload and 
weigh it down, by its unsightly bulk, like the productions of bad taste in ar- 
chitecture, where there is massy and cumbrous ornament, without sti-ength or 
sohdity of column. This has exposed learning, and especially classical learn- 
ing, to reproach. Men have seen that it might exist, without mental superior- 
ity, without vigor, without good taste, and Avithout utUity. But in such cases 
classical leai-ning has only not inspired natural talent; or, at most, it has but 
made original feebleness of intellect, and natural bluntness of perception, 
something more conspicuous. The question, after all, if it be a question, is 
whether literature, ancient as well as modern, does not assist a good under- 
standing, improve natural good taste, add polished ai-mor to native strength 
and render its possessor, not only more capable of deriving private happiness 
from contemplation and reflection, but more accomplished, also, for action in 
the affairs of life, and especially for pubhc action. Those whose memories we 
now honor, were learned men; but their learning was kept in its proper place, 
and made subservient to the uses and objects of life. They were scholars not 
common, nor superficial ; but their scholarship was so in keeping with their 
character, so blended and inwrought, that careless observers, or bad judges, 
not seeing an ostentatious display of it, might infer that it did not exist; for- 
getting, or not knowing, that classical learning, in men who act in conspicu- 
ous pubhc stations, perfonn duties which exercise the faculty of ^VTiting;, or 
address popular, deliberative, or judicial bodies, is often felt, where it is little 
seen, and sometimes felt more effectually, because it is not seen at all. 

But the cause of knowledge, in a more enlarged sense, the cause of general 
knowledge and of popular education, had no warmer friends, nor more pow- 
erful advocates, than Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson. On this foundation, they 
knew the whole republican system rested ; and this great and all-irapoi-tant 
truth they strove to impress, by all the means in their power. In the early 
publication already referred to, Mr. Adams expresses the strong and just senti- 
ment, that the education of the poor is more important, even to the lich them- 
selves, than all their own riches. On this great truth, indeed, is founded that 
unrivalled, that invaluable pohrical and moral iastitution, our own blessing and 
the glory of our fathers, the New England system of free schools. 

As the promotion of knowledge had been the object of their regard through 
life, so these great men made it the subject of their testamentary bounty. 
Mr. Jefferson ls undei-stood to have bequeathed his libraiy to the University 



92 

of Vii-ginia, and that of Mr. Adams is bestowed on the inhabitants of 
Quincy. 

Mr. Adams and j.Ir. Jeflferson, fellow-citizens, were successively Presidents 
of the United States. The comparative merits of their respective adminis- 
trations for a long time agitated and divided pubhc opinion. They were ri- 
vals, each. supported by numerous and powerful portions of the people, for the 
liighest office. This contest, partly the cause and pailly the consequence of 
the long existence of two great pohtical parties in the country, is now part of 
the history of our government. We may naturally regret that any thing 
should ha\e occurred to create difference and discord between those who had 
<icted harmoniously and efficiently in the great concerns of the Revolution. 
But this is not the time, nor this the occasion, for entering into the grounds of 
that difference, or for attempting to discuss the merits of the question which it 
involves. As practical questions, they were canvassed when the measures 
which they regarded were acted on and adopted ; and as belonging to history, 
the time had not come for their consideration. 

It is, perhaps, not wonderful, that, when the Constitution of the United 
States fii-st went into operation, different opinions should be entertained as to 
the extent of the powers confen-ed by it. Here was a natural soiu-ce of diver- 
sity of sentiment. It is stiU less wonderful, that that event, nearly contempo- 
rary with our government imder the present Constitution, which so entirely 
shocked all Europe, and disturbed oxir relations with her leading powers, should 
be thought, by different men, to have different bearings on om* own prosperi- 
ty ; and that the early measures adopted by the government of the United 
States, in consequence of this new state of things, should be seen in opposite 
lights. It is for the future historian, when what now remains of prejudice 
and misconception shall have passed away, to state these different opinions, 
and pronounce impaiiial judgment. In the mean time, all good men rejoice, 
and well may rejoice, that the sharpest differences sprung out of measures 
which, whether right or Avrong, have ceased with the exigencies that gave 
them birth, and have left no. pennanent effect, either on the Constitution or 
on the general prosperity of the country. This remark, I am aware, may be 
supposed to have its exception in one measure, the alteration of the Constitu- 
tion as to the mode of choosing President; but it is true in its general appli- 
cation. Thus the course of policy pursued towards France in 1798, on the 
one hand, and the measures of commercial restriction commenced in 1807, on 
the other, both subjects of warm and severe opposition, have passed away and 
left nothing behind them. They were temporary, and whether wise or un- 
wise, their consequences were hmited to their respective occasions. It is equal- 
ly clear, at the same time, and it is equally gratifying, that those measures of 
both administrations which were of durable importance, and which drew after 
them momentous and long remaining consequences, have received general ap- 
probation. Such was the organization, or rather the creation, of the navy, in 
the administration of Mr. Adams ; such the acquisition of Louisiana in that 
){ Mr. Jefferson. The country, it may safely be added, is not likely to be 
wiUing cither to approve, or to rebrobate, indiscriminately, and in the aggre- 
gate, all the measures of either or of any, administration. The dictate of rea- 
son and of justice is, that, holding each one his OAvn sentiments on the points 
of difference, we imitate the great men themselves in the forbearance and 
moderation which they have cherished, and in the mutual respect and kind- 
ness which they have been so much inclined to feel and to reciprocate. 

No men, fellow-citizens, ever sei'N'ed their country with more entire exerap- 



93 

tion from every imputation of selfish and mercenary motives, tiian those to 
whose memory we are paying these proofs of respect. A suspicion of any 
disposition to enrich themselves, or to profit by their public employments, never 
rested on either. No sordid motive appi-oached them. The inheritance which 
they have left to theh children is of their character and their fame. 

Fellow-citizens, I will detain you no longer by this faint and feeble tribute 
to the memory of the illustrious dead. Even in other hands, adequate justice 
could not be done to them, within the limits of this occasion. Their highest, 
their best praise, is your deep con^'iction of their merits, your aifectionate gra- 
titude for their labors and then- services. It is not my voice, it is this cessation 
of ordinary pursuits, this arresting of all attention, these solemn ceremonies, 
and this crowded house, which speak their eulogy. Their fame, indeed, is 
safe. That is now treasured up beyond the reach of accident. Although no 
sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record 
of then- deeds, yet vrill their remembrance be as lasting as the land they hon- 
ored. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, time may erase all 
impress from the cnimbling stone, but their fame remains ; for with American 
LIBERTY it rose, and with American liberty only can it perish. It was 
the last swelling peal of yonder choir, "Their bodies are buried in peace, 
BUT THEIR NAME LivETH EATLRMORE." I catch that solcmn song, I ccho that 
lofty strain of funeral triumph, " Their name livetii evermore." 

Of the illustrious signers of the Declaration of Independence there now re- 
mains only Charles Carroll. He seems an aged oak, standing alone on 
the plain, which time has spared a Uttle longer after aU its contemporaries have 
been levelled with the dust. Venerable object ! we dehght to gather round 
its trunk, while yet it stands, and to dwell beneath its shadow. Sole sui-vivor 
of an assembly of as great men as the world has witnessed, in a transaction 
one of the most important that history records, what thoughts, what interest- 
ing reflections, must fill his elevated and devout soul ! If he dwell on the- 
past, how touching its recollections ; if he survey the present, how happy, how 
joyous, how full of the fruition of that hope, which his ardent patriotism in- 
dulged ; if he glance at the future, how does the prospect of his country's ad- 
vancement almost bewilder his weakened conception ! Fortunate, distinguished 
patriot! Interesting relic of the past! Let him know that, while we honor 
the dead, we do not forget the living ; and that there is not a heart here which 
does not fervently pray, that Heaven may keep him yet back from the society 
of his companions. 

And now, fellow-citizens, let us not retire from this occasion without a dqep 
and solemn conviction of the duties which have devolved upon us. This lovely 
land, this glorious hberty, these benign institutions, the dear purchase of our 
fathers, are om-s; ours to enjoy, ours to preserve, om-s to transmit. Genera- 
tions past and generations to come hold us responsible for this sacred trust. 
Our fathers, from behind, admonish us, with their anxious patenial voices; 
posterity calls out to us, from the bosom of the future ; the world turns hither 
its solicitous eyes ; all, all conjure us to act wisely, and faithfully, in the rela- 
tion which we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upon 
us; but by virtue, by morality, by religion, by the cultivation of eveiy good 
principle and every good habit, we may hope to enjoy the blessing, through our 
day, and to leave it unimpaired to our children. Let us feel deeply how 
much of what we are and of what we possess we owe to this hberty, and to 
these institutions of government. Nature has, indeed, given us a soil which 
yields bounteously to the hand of industry, the mighty aud fruitful ocean is 



94 

before us, and the skies over oiir heads shed health and vigor. But what 
are lauds, and seas, and skies, to civilized man without society, without knowl- 
edge, without morals, religious cultm-e ; and how can these be enjoyed, in all 
their extent and all thek excellence, but under the protection of wise institu- 
tions and a free goveniment ? Fellow-citizens, there is not one of us, there is 
not one of us here present, who does not, at this moment, and at every mo- 
ment, experience, in his own condition, and in the condition of those most 
near and dear to him, the influence and the benefits of this liberty and these 
institutions. Let us then acknowledge the blessing, let us feel it deeply and 
powerfully, let us cherish a strong afiection for it, and resolve to maintj\in and 
peipetuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it not have been shed in vain ; 
the gi'eat hope of posterity, let it not be blasted. 

The stiiking attitude, too, in which we stand to the world aroimd us, a to- 
pic to which, 1 fear, I advert too often, and dwell on too long, cannot be alto- 
gether omitted here. Neither individuals nor nations can perform their part 
well, until they uuderetand and feel its importance, and comprehend and justly 
appreciate all the duties belonging to it. It is not to inflate national vanity, 
nor to swell a light and empty feeling of self-importance, but it is that we may 
judge justly of our situation, and of our own duties, that I earnestly ui-ge 
upon you this consideration of oui* position and our character among the na- 
tions of the eai-th. It cannot be denied, but by those who would dispute 
against the sun, that with America, and in America, a new era commences in 
human affairs. This ei'a is distinguished by free representative governments, 
by entire religious hberty, by improved systems of national intercoiu-se, by a 
newly awakened and an unconquerable spirit of free inquiiy, and by a diffusion 
of knowledge through the community, such as has been before altogether un- 
known and unheard of. America, America, om- country, fellow-citizens, our 
own dear and native land, is inseparably connected, fast bound up, in fortune 
and by fate, with these great interests. If they foil, we fall with them; if 
they stand, it will be because we have maintained them. Let us contemplate, 
then, this connection, which binds the prosperity of others to our own ; and 
let us manfully discharge all the duties which it imposes. If we cherish the 
viitues and the principles of our fathers. Heaven will assist us to cai-ry on the 
work of human hberty and human happiness. Auspicious omens cheer us. 
Great examples are before us. Our own firmament now shines brightly upon 
our path. Washington is in the clear, upper sky. These other stai-s have 
now joined the American constellation ; they chcle round their cenb-e, and the 
heavens beam with new light. Beneath this illumination let us walk the course 
of life, and at its close devoutly commend our beloved country, the common 
parent of us all, to the Divine Benignity. 



FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 

DELIVERED AT PLYMOUTH, DEC, 22d, 1820. 

Lei us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be thankful that we have 
lived to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious mom, which 
commences the thii-d centmy of the history of New England. Auspicious, 
indeed — bringing a happiness beyond the common allotment of Providence 
to men — full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams the prospect of 
futurity, is the dawn that awakens us to the commemoration of the landing 
of the Pilgrims. 

Living at an epoch which naturally marks the progress of the history of 
our native land, we have come hither to celebrate the great event with which 
that history commenced. For ever honored be this, the place of om- fathere' 
refuge ! For ever remembered the day which saw them, weary and distress- 
ed, broken in every thing but spuit, poor in all but faith and courage, at last 
secure from the dangera of wintry seas, and impressmg this shore with the 
first footsteps of civilized man ! 

It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables us to connect our thoughts 
our sympathies, and om- happiness with what is distant in place or time; and 
looking before and after, to hold commimion at once with our ancestors and 
our posterity. Human and mortal although we are, we are nevertheless not 
mere insulated bemgs, without relation to the past or the futm-e. Neither 
the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in which we physically Hve, bounds 
our rational and intellectual enjoyments. We live in the past by a knowl- 
edge of its history ; and in the future by hope and anticipation. By ascend- 
ing to an association with om- ancestors; by contemplating then- example and 
studying their character; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibuig their 
spuit; by accompanying them in their toils, by sympathizing in their suffer- 
ings, and rejoicing in their successes and their triumphs ; we seem to belong 
to their age, and to mingle our existence with theii-s. We become their con- 
temporaries, live the lives which they lived, endm-e what they endured, and 
partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like manner, by run- 
ning along the hne of future tune, by contemplating the probable fortimes of 
those who are coming after us, by attempting something which may promote 
their happiness, and leave some not dishonorable memorial of ourselves for 
their regard, when we shall sleep with the fathers, we protract our own earth- 
ly being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as well as all that is past, in- 
to the narrow compaas of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and 
false, but an exhalted and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our 
thoughts from the orb, which, amidst this univei-se of worids, the Creator has 
given us to inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which 
nature prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal 
Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow-beings, with which his 
goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false or vain to con- 
sider ourselves as interested and connected with our whole race, tl^ough aK 



96 

time ; allied to our ancestor ; allied to our posterity ; closely compacted on 
all sides witli others; ourselves being but links in the great chain of being, 
which begins with the origin of our race, iiins onward through its successive 
generations, binding together the past, the present, and the future, and ter- 
minating at last, with the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne 
of God. 

There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard for ancestry, which 
nourishes only a weak pride ; as there is also a care for posterity, which only 
disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the workings of a low and grovelling 
vanity. But there is also a moral and philosophical respect for our ancestors, 
•which elevates the character and improves the heart. Next to the sense of 
rehgious duty and moral feehng, I hardly know what should bear with strong- 
er obligation on a liberal and enlightened mind, than a consciousness of alli- 
ance with excellence which is departed ; and a consciousness, too, that in its 
acts and conduct, and even in its sentiments and thoughts, it may be actively 
operating on the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to 
have few stronger conceptions by which it would afi'ect or oven\'helm the 
mind, than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the 
departed dead to the senses of the living. This belongs to poetry, only be- 
cause it is congenial to our nature. Poetry, is, in this respect, but the hand- 
maid of tme philosophy and morality ; it deals with us as human beings, 
naturally reverencing those whose visible connection with this state of exist- 
ence is severed, and who may yet exercise we know not what sympathy with 
ourselves; and when it carries us forward, also, and shows us the long- 
continued result of all the good we do, in the prosperity of those who follow 
us, till it beara us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an intense interest for 
what shall happen to the generations after us, it speaks only in the language 
of our nature, and affects us with sentiments which belong to us as human 
beings. 

Standing in this relation to our ancestors and our posterity, we are assem- 
bled on this memorable spot, to perform the duties which that relation and 
the present occasion impose upon us. We have come to this Rock, to record 
here our homage for our Pilgrim Fathers ; our sympathy in their sufferings ; 
our gratitude for their laboi-s ; our admiration of their virtues ; our veneration 
for their piety ; and our attachment to those principles of civil and rehgious 
liberty, which they encountered the dangers of the ocean, the storms of 
heaven, the violence of savages, disease, exile and famine, to enjoy and to es- 
tablish. And we would leave here, also, for the generations which are rising 
up rapidly to fill our places, some proof that we have endeavored to transmit 
the great inheritance unimpaired ; that in our estimate of public principles 
and private virtue, in our veneration of religion and piety, in our devotion to 
civil and religious liberty, in our regard for whatever advances human knowl- 
edge or improves human haj)piness, wo are not altogether unworthy of our 
origin. 

There is a local feeling connected with this occasion, too strong to be resisted ; 
a sort of genius of the place, which inspires and awes us. Wo feel that we 
are on the spot where the first scene of our history was laid; where the 
hearths and altai's of New England were first placed ; where Christianity, and 
civilization, and letters made their first lodgement, in a vast extent of country, 
covered with a wilderness, and peopled by roving barbarians. We are here, 
at the season of the year at which the event took place. The imagination 
irresistibly and rapidly draws around us the principal features and the leading 



97 

cliaracters in the original scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and 
we see where the Uttlo bark, with the interesting group upon its deck, made its 
slow progress to the shore. We look around us, and behold the hills and 
promontories whei'e the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw the places of 
habitation and of rest We feel the cold which benumbed, and listen to the 
winds which pierced them. Beneath us is the Rock, on which New England 
received the feet of the Pilgrims. We seem even to behold them, as they 
struggle with the elements, and with toilsome efforts, gain the shore. Wo 
Hsten to the chiefs in council ; we see the unexampled exhibition of female 
fortitude and resignation ; we hear the whispermgs of youthful impatience ; 
and we see, what a painter of our own has also represented by his pencil, 
chilled and shivering childhood — houseless, but for a mothers arms — couch- 
less, but for a mother's breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild 
dignity of Carver and of Bradford ; the decisive and soldier-like air and 
manner of Standish; the devout Brewster; the enterprising Allerton ; 
the general firmness and thoughtfulness of the whole band ; their conscious 
joy for dangers escaped ; their deep solicitude about dangers to come ; their 
trust in Heaven ; their high religious faith, fidl of confidence and anticipation ; 
all of these seem to belong to this place, and to be present upon this occasion, 
to fill us with reverence and admiration. 

The settlement of New England by the colony which landed here on the 
twenty-second of December, sixteen hundred and twenty, although not the 
first European establishment in what now constitutes the United States, was 
yet so peculiar in its causes and character, and has been followed and must 
still be foHowed by such consequences, as to give it a high claim to lasting 
commemoration. On these causes and consequences, more than on its im- 
mediate attendant chcumstances, its importance, as an historical event, depends. 
Great actions and striking occurrences, having excited a temporary admiration, 
often pass away and are forgotten, because they leave no lasting results, afl'ect- 
ing the prosperity and happiness of communities. Such is frequently th<! 
fortune of the most brilliant military achievements. Of the ten thousand 
battles which have been fought, of all the fields fertilized with carnage, of the 
banners which have been bathed in blood, of the warriors Avho have hoped 
that they had risen from the field of conquest to a glory as bright and as 
durable as the stars, how few that continue long to interest mankind ! The 
victory of yesterday is reversed by the defeat of to-day ; the star of miUtary 
glory, rising like a meteor, like a meteor has fallen; disgrace and disaster 
hang on the heels of conquest and renown ; victor and vanquished presently 
pass away to oblivion, and the world goes on in its coui"se, with the loss only 
of so many lives and so much treasure. 

But if this be frequently, or generally, the fortune of military achievements, 
it is not always so. There are enterprises, military as well as civil, which 
sometimes check the current of events, give a new tui'n to human affairs, and 
transmit their consequences through ages. We see their importance in their 
results, and call them great, because great things follow. There have been 
battles which have fixed the fate of nations. These come down to us in his- 
tory with a solid and permanent interest, not created by a display of glittering 
armor, tlie rush of adverse battalions, the sinking and rising of pennons, tlie 
flight, the pursuit, and the victory ; but by their effect in advancing or retard- 
ing human knowledge, in overthrowing or establishing, despotism, in extend- 
ing or destroying human happiness. When the traveller pauses on the plain 
of Marathon, what are the emotions which strongly agitate his breast ? What 



98 

is that glorious recollection, whicli thrills through his fi-ame, and suffuses his 
eyes ? Not, I imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valor were here most 
•signally displayed; but that Greece hei"self was saved. It is because to this 
spot, and to the event ■svliich has rendered it immortal, he refei"s all the sue 
ceeding glories of the republic. It is because, if that day had gone other- 
wise, Greece had perished. It is because he perceives that her philosophers 
and oratoi-s, her poets and painters, her sculptors and architects, her govern- 
ments and free institutions, point backward to Mai-athon, and that then- future 
existence seems to have been suspended on the contingency, whether the Per- 
sian or the Grecian banner should wave victorious in the beams of that day's 
setting sun. And, as his imagination kindles at the retrospect, he is trans- 
ported back to the interesting moment ; he counts the fearful odds of the 
contending hosts; his interest for the result ovei-whelms him; he trembles, as 
if it were still uncertain, and seems to doubt whether he may consider 
Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes, Sophocles, and Phidias, as secure, yet, to 
himself and to the world. 

" K we conquer," said the Athenian commander- on the approach of that 
d»2isive day, " if we conquer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of 
Greece." A prophecy, how well fulfilled! "If God prosper us," might 
have been the more appropriate language of our fathers, when they landed 
upon this Rock, "if God prosper us, we shall here begin a work which shall 
last for ages ; we shall plant here a new society, in the princii^le of the fullest 
liberty and the purest religion ; we shall subdue this wilderness which is be- 
fore us ; we shall fill this region of the great continent, which stretches almost 
from pole to pole, with civilization and Christianity; the temples of the truo 
God shall rise, where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; fields ano 
gardens, the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvest of 
autumn shall spread over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand val 
leys, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to the use of civilized man. V\ f 
shall whiten the coast with the canvass of a prosperous commerce;, we shall 
stud the long and winding shore with a hundred cities. That which we sow 
in weakness shall be raised in strength. From our sincere, but househsvM 
worship, there shall spring splendid temples to record God's goodness ; from 
the simplicity of our social union, there shall aris^ wise and pohtrc constitu 
tions of government, full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe • 
Irom our zeal for leaniing, institutions shixll spring which shall scatter the 
light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in time, paying back where 
tliey have boiTOwed, shall contribute their part to the great aggi-egate of hu 
man knowledge; and our descendants, through all generations, shall look 
back to this spot, and to this hour, Avith unabated affection and regard." 

A brief remembrance of the causes which led to the settlement of this 
place ; some account of the peculiarities and charcteristic qualities of that set- 
tlement, aa dictinofuished from other instances of colonization : a short notice 
of t);--^ j»«ogi-ess of New England in the great interests of society, during the 
century which is now elapsed ; with a few observations on the principles upon 
^\ hich society and government are established in this country ; comprise all 
(hat can be attempted, and much more than can be satisfiictorily performed, 
on the present occasion. 

Of the motives which influenced the first settlers to a voluntary exile, in- 
duced them to relinquish their native country, and to seek an asylum in this 
then unexplored wilderness, the fii-st and principal, no doubt, were connected 
with religion. They sought to enjoy a higher degi-ee of religious freedom, 



99 

and wliat tliey esteemed a purer form of religious woi-sliip, than was allowed 
to their choice, or presented to their imitation, in the Old World. The lovo 
of religious liberty is a stronger sentiment, when fully excited, than an attach- 
ment to civil or political freedom. That freedom which the conscience de- 
mands, and which men feel bound by their hope of salvation to contend for, 
can hardly fail to be attained. Conscience, in the cause of religion and the 
woi'ship of the Deity, prepares the mind to act and to suffer beyond almost all 
other causes. It sometimes gives an impulse so irresistible, that no fetters of 
power or of opinion can withstand it. History instructs us that this love of 
religious hberty, a compound sentiment in the breast of man, made up of the 
clearest sense of right and the highest conviction of duty, is able to look the 
sternest despotism in the face, and, -vsith means apparently most inadequate, to 
shake principahties and powers. There is a boldness, a spirit of daring, in 
religious refonners, not to be measured by the general rules which control 
men's pm-poses and actions. If the hand of power be laid upon it, this only 
seems to aug-ment its force and its elasticity, and to cause its action to be 
more foimidable and violent. Human invention has devised nothing, human • 
power has compassed nothing, that can forcibly restrain it, when it breaks 
forth. Nothing can stop it, but to give way to it ; nothing can check it, but 
to give way to indulgence. It loses its power only when it has gained its ob- 
ject. The i^iinciple of toleration, to which the world has come so slowly, is 
at once the most just and the most wise of all pi-iuciples. Even when reli- 
gous feeUng takes a character of extravagance and enthusiasm, and seems to 
threaten the order of society and shake the columns of the social edifice, its 
principal danger is in its restraint. If it be allowed indulgence and expan- 
sion, hke the elemental fires, it only agitates, and perhaps pm-ifies the atmos- 
phere; whilst its efforts to throw otf restraint would burst the world asunder. 
It is certain that, although many of them were republicans in principle, avo 
have no evidence that our New England ancestors would have emigrated, as 
they did, from their own native country, would have become wanderers in 
Europe, and finally woidd have undertaken the establishment of a colony 
here, merely from their dislike of the political systems of Europe. They 
fled not so much from the civU government, as from the hierarchy, and tho 
laws which enforced confoi-mity to the church establishment. Mr. Robinson 
had left England as early as 1608, on account of the persecutions for non- 
conformity, and had retired to Holland. He left England, from no disap- 
pointed ambition in affairs of state, from no regi-ets at the want of preferment 
in the church, nor from any motive of distinction or of gain. Uniformity in 
matters of rehgion was pressed^with such extreme rigor, that a voluntary exile 
seemed the most eligible mode of escaping from the penalties of noncompli- 
ance. The accession of Elizabeth had, it is true, quenched the fires of Smith- 
field, and put an end to the easy acquisition of the croMoi of martyrdom. 
Her lonof reiim had cstabhshed the Refonnation, but toleration was a virtue 
beyond her conception, and beyond the age. She left no example of it to 
her successor; and he was not of a character which rendered it probable that 
a sentiment either so wise or so hberal would originate with him. At tho 
present period, it seems. incredible that the learned, accomplished, unassuming, 
and inoffensive Robinson, should neither be tolerated in his peaceable mode of 
worship in his own country, nor suffered quietly to depart from it. Yet such 
was the fiict. He left his coimtry by stealth, that ho might elsewhere enjoy 
those rights which ought to belong to men in all countries. The departure 
of the Pilgrims for Holland is deeply interesting, from its circumstances, and 



100 

also as it marks tlio character of the times, independently of its connection 
with names now incoi-porated with the histoiy of empii-e. The embarkation 
was intended to be made in such a manner, that it might escape the notice 
of the oflicers of government. Great pains had been taken to secure boats, 
which should come undiscovered to the shore, and receive the fugitives; and 
frequent disappointments had been experienced in this. respect. 

At lengtli the appointed time came, bringing with it unusual severity of 
2old and rain. An unfrequented and barren heath, on the shores of Lin- 
colnshire, was the selected spot, where the feet of the Pilgrims were to tread, 
for the last time, the land of their fathers. The vessel which was to receive 
them did not come until the next day, and in the meantime the little band 
was collected, and men and women and children and baggage were crowded 
together, in melancholy and distressed confusion. The sea was rough, and 
the women and childi-en wore already sick, from their passage down the river 
to the place of embarkation on the sea. At length the wished-for boat silent- 
ly and feaifully approaclies the shore, and men and women and children, 
shaking with fear and with cold, as many as the small vessel could bear, ven- 
ture off on a dangerous sea. Immediately the advance of horses is heard from 
behind, armed men appear, and those not yet embarked are seized, and taken 
into custody. In the huny of the moment, the first parties had been sent on 
board without any attempt to keep members of the same family together, and 
on account of the appearance of the horsemen, the boat never returned for 
the residue. Those who had got away, and those who had not. were in equal 
distress. A storm, of gi'cat violence and long duration, arose at sea, which 
not only protracted the voyage, rendered distressing by the want of all those 
accommodations which the inten-uption of the embarkation had occasioned, 
but also forced the vessel out of her course, and menaced immediate ship- 
wreck ; while those on shore, Avhen they were dismissed from the custody of 
the officere of justice, having no longer homes or houses to retire to, and their 
friends and protectors being already gone, became objects of necessaiy charity, 
as well as of deep commiseration. 

As tliis scene passes before us, we can hardly forbear asking, whether this 
bo a band of malefactoi-s and felons, flying from justice. What are their 
crimes, that they hide themselves in daikness ? To what punishment are they 
exposed, that, to avoid it, men, and women, and chDdren, thus encounter the 
Kuif of the North Sea, and the tei'rors of a night stonn ? What induces 
this armed pursuit, and this arrest of fugitives, of all ages and both sexes ? 
Truth does not allow -cis to answer these inquiries in a manner that does credit 
to the wisdom or the justice of the times. This was not the flight of guilt, 
but of virtue. It was an humble and peaceable religion, flying fi'om causeless 
oppression. It was conscience, attempting to escape from the arbitrary lailo 
of the Stuarts. It wos Robinson and Brewster, leading off their little band 
from their native soil, at first to find shelter on the shore of the neighboi-ing 
cx)ntinent, but ultimately to come liither; and having surmounted all difficul- 
ties and braved a thousand dangei-s, to find here a place of refuge and of rest. 
Thanks be to God, that this spot was honored as the asylum of religious liber- 
ty ! May its standard, reared here, remain for ever ! May it rise up as high 
as heaven, till its banner shall fan the air of both continents, and wave as a 
glorious ensign of peace and security to the nations ! 

The peculiar character, condition, and circumstances of the colonies which 
introduced civilization and an English race into New England, atibrd a most 
interesting and extensive to]HC of discussion. On these, much of our subse- 



101 

quent cliaracter and fortune lins depended. Their influence lioa essentially 
affected our -vvliole history, through the two centuries -which have elapsed ; 
and as they have become intimately connected with government, laws, and 
property, as well as our opmions on the subjects of religion and civil liberty, 
that influence is likely to continue to be felt through the centuries which shall 
succeed. Emigration from one region to another, and the emission of colonies 
to people countries more or less distant from the residence of the parent stock, 
are common incidents in the history of mankind ; but it has not often, per- 
haps never happened, that the estabhshment of colonies should be attempted 
under circumstances, however beset with present difiiculties and dangers, yet 
so favorable to ultimate success, and so conducive to magnificent results, as 
those which attended the first settlements on this part of the American conti- 
nent. In other instances, emigi-ation has proceeded from a less exalted pur- 
pose, in periods of less general intelligence, or more without plan and by acci- 
dent ; or under circumstances, physical and moral, less favorable to the expec- 
tation of la}nug a foundation for great public prosperity and future empire. 

A great resemblance exists, obviously, between all the English colonies es- 
tablished w^thin the present hmits of the United States; but the occasion at- 
tracts our attention more immediately to those which took possession of New 
England, and the peculiarities of these fiimish a strong contrast with most 
other instances of colonization. 

Among the ancient nations, the Greeks, no doubt, sent forth from their 
territories the greatest number of colonies. So numerous, indeed, were they, 
and so great the extent of space over which they were spread, that the parent 
country fondly and naturally pereuaded herself that by means of them she 
had laid a sure foundation for the universal civilization of the world. These 
estabhshments, from obvious causes, were most numerous in places most con- 
tiguous ; yet they were found on the coasts of France, on the shores of the 
Euxine Sea, in Africa, and even, as is alleged, on the borders of India. These 
emigrations appear to have been sometimes voluntary and sometimes compul- 
sory ; arising from the spontaneous enterprise of individuals, or the order and 
regulation of government. It was a common opinion with ancient writei-s, 
that they were undertaken in religious obedience to the commands of oracles, 
and it is probable that impressions of this sort might have had more or less 
influence ; but it is probable, also, that on these occasions the oracles did not 
speak a language dissonant from the views and purposes of the state. 

Political science among the Greeks seems never to have extended to the 
comprehension of a system which should be adequate to the government of a 
great nation upon principles of liberty. They were accustomed only to the 
contemplation of small republics, and were led to consider an augmented 
population as incompatible with free institutions. The desire of a remedy for 
this supposed evil, and the wish to establish marts for trade, led the govern- 
ments often to imdertake the establishment of colonies aa an afiair of state 
expediency. Colonization: and commerce, indeed, would naturally become 
objects of interest to an ingenious and enterprising people, inhabiting a terri- 
tory closely circumscribed in its limits, and in no small part mountainous and 
sterile ; while the islands of the adjacent seas, and the promontories and coasts 
of the neighboring continents, by their mere proximity, strongly solicited the 
excited spirit of emigration. Such was this proximity, in many instances, 
that the iiew settlements appeared rather to be the mere extension of popula- 
tion over contiguous territory, than the establishment of distant colonies. In 
proportion as they were near to the parent state, they would be under its 



102 

authority, imd partake of its foilimes. The colony at Marseilles might per- 
ceive lightly, or not at all, the sway of Phocis ; while the islands in the -^gean 
Sea could liardly attain to independenco of their Athenian origin. Many of 
these establishment^ took place at an early age ; and if there were defects i:: 
the governments of the parent states, the colonists did not possess philosophy 
or experience sufficient to correct such evils in their own institutions, even if 
they had not been, by other causes, deprived of the power. An innuediato 
necessity, connected with the suppoit of life, was the main and direct induce- 
ment to these undertakings, and there could hardly exist more than the hope 
pf a successful imitation of institutions with which they were already ac- 
quainted, and of holding an equahty with their neighbors in the coui-se of im- 
j)rovement. The laws and customs, both pohtical and municipal, as well as 
the religious w^orship of the parent city, were transferred to the colony ; and 
the parent city herself, with all such of her colonies as were not too far remote 
for frequent intercoui-se and common sentiments, would appear like a family 
of cities, more or le^ dependent, and more or less connected. We know how 
imperfect this system wtis, as a system of general pohtics, and what scope it 
ga\e to those mutual dissensions and conflicts which proved so fatal to Greece. 

But it is more pertinent to our present purpose to observe," that nothing ex- 
isted in the chai-aCter of Grecian emigrations, or in the spirit and intelligence 
of the emigi'ants, likely to give a new and important direction to human af- 
fairs, or a new impulse to the human mind. Their motives were not high 
enough, theh views were not sufficiently large and prospective. _ They went 
not forth, like our ancestors, to erect systems of more perfect civil liberty, or 
to enjoy a higher degree of religious freedom. Above all, there was nothing 
in the religion and learning of the age, that could either inspire high pur- 
poses, or give the ability to execute them. Whatever restramts on ci^■il liber- 
1}-, or whatever abuses in rehgious worship, existed at the time of our fathers' 
('migration, yet even then all was light in the moral and mental world, in 
comparison with its condition in most periods of the ancient states. The 
•settlement of a new continent, in an age of progTCssive knowledge and im- 
pro\ement, could not but do more than merely enlarge the natural boimdaries 
of the habitable world. It could not but do much more even than extend 
commerce and increase wealth among the human race. We see how this 
e\ent has acted, how it must have acted, and w^onder only why it did not act 
sooner, in the production of moral eftects, on the state of human knowledge, 
the general tone of human sentiments, and the prospects of human happiness. 
It ga\e to civihzed man not only a new continent to be inhabited and cuki- 
vat^d, and new seas to be explored; but it it gave him also a new range for 
Lis thoughts, new objects for curiosity, and new excitements to knowledge 
and improvement. 

Roman colonization resembled, far less than that of the Greeks, the origin- 
al settlements of this country. Power and dominion were the objects of 
Eomo, even in her colonial estabhshments. Her whole exterior a^^poct was for 
centuries hostile and teri-ific. She grasped at dominion, from India to Britain, 
and her measures of colonization partook of the chai-acter of her general 
system. Her policy was military, because her objects were power, ascendency 
and subjugation. Detachments of emigrants from Rome incoi-porated them- 
seU'es w'iriT, and governed, the original inhabitants of conquered countries. 
She sent citizens where she had first sent soldiers; her law followed her sword. 
Her colonies were a sort of military establishment; so many advanced posts 
in the career of her dominion. A governor from Rome ruled the now colony 



103 

with absolute swav, and often with unbounded rapacity. InScicily, in Gaul, 
in Spain, and in Asia, the power of Rome prevailed, not nominally only, but 
really and effectually. Those who immediately exercised it were Roman; 
the tone and tendency of its administration, Roman. Rome herself con-^ 
tmued to be the heart and centre of the great system which she had estab-' 
lished. Extortion and rapacity, finding a wide and often rich field of action 
in the provinces, looked nevertheless to the banks of the Tiber, as the scene in 
which their ill-gotten treasm-es should be displayed; or, if a spirit of mor<i 
honest acquisition prevailed, the object, nevertheless, was uhimate enjoyment 
in Rome itseU". If our own history and our own times did not sufliciontly ex- 
pose the inherent and incm-able evils of provincial govemmeut, we might see 
them portrayed, to our amazement, in the desolated and rained provmces of 
the Roman empire. "We might hear them, in a voice that terrifies us, in 
those strains of complaint and accusation, which the advocates of the provin- 
ces poured forth in the Roman Forum :— " Quas res luxuries in flagitiis, 
crudelitas in suppliciis, avaritia in rapinis, superbia in contumehis, efficero 
potuisset, eas omues sese pertuhsse." 

As was to be expected, the Roman provinces partook of the fortunes, as 
well as of the sentiments and general character, of the seat of empire. They 
lived together with her, they flourished with her, and fell with her. The 
branches* were lopped away even before the vast and venerable trunk itself 
fell prostrate to the earth. Nothing had proceeded fi-om her which could sup- 
port itself, and beai- up the name of its origin, when her own sustaining arm 
should be enfeebled or withdi-awn. It was not given to Rome to see, either 
at her zenith or in her dechne, a child of her own, distant, indeed, and inde- 
pendent of her control, yet speaking her language and inheriting her blood, 
springing forward to a competition with her own power, and a comparison 
with her' own great renown. She saw not a vast region of the earth peopled 
from her stock, full of states and political communities, improving upon the 
models of her institutions, and breathing m fidler measure the spirit which 
she had breathed in the best periods of her existence ; enjoying and extend- 
ing her aits and her literature; rising rapidly from political childhood to 
manly strength and independence; her offspring, yet now her equal; imcon- 
nected with the causes which might afiect the dm-ation of her own power and 
greatness ; of common origin, but not hnked to a common fate ; giving ample 
pledge, that her name should not be forgotten; that her language should 
not cease to be used among men ; that whatsoever she had done for human 
knowledge and human happiness shoidd be treasm-ed up and preserved ; that 
the record of her existence and her achievements should not be obscured, al- 
though, in the inscrutable purposes of Providence, it might be her destiny to 
fall from opulence and splendor; although the time might come when dai-k- 
ness should settle on all her hills; when foreign or domestic violence should 
overturn her altars and her temples ; when ignorance and despotism shoidd 
fill the places where Laws, and Ai-ts, and Liberty had flourished; when the 
feet of barbaiism should trample on the tombs of her consuls, and the walls 
of her senate-house and forum echo only to the voice of savage triumph. 
She saw not this glorious vision, to inspire and fortify her against the possible 
decay or downfall of her power. Happy are they who in our day may be- 
hold it, if they shall contemplate it with the sentiments which it ought to 
inspire! 

The New England colonies differ quite as widely from the Asiatic establish- 
ments of the modem European natioas, as from the models of the ancient 



104 

states. The solo oLjects of tbose establislimenta was originally trade; al- 
though we have seen, in one of them, the anomaly of a mere tmding com- 
pany attaining a pohtical chai-acter, disbursing revenues, and maintaining 
anuies and fortresses, until it has extended its control over se\enty millions 
of people. Differing from these, and still more from the New England and 
North American colonies, are the European settlements in the A\'est India 
Islands. It is not strange that, when men's minds were turned to the settle- 
ment of Axaerica, diflerent objects should be proposed by those who emi- 
grated to the ditlerent regions of so vast a countiy. Climate, soil and condi- 
tion were not all equally favorable to all pursuits. In the West Indies, the 
pm-pose of those who went thither was to engage in that species of agricul- 
ture, suited to the soil and climate, which seems to bear more resemblance to 
commerce, than to the hard and plaiu tillage of New England. The great 
staples of these coimtries, being partly an agricultural and partly a manufac- 
tured product, and not being of the necessaries of life, become the object of 
calculation, with respect to a profitable investment of capital, like any other 
enterprise of trade or manufacture. The more especially, as, requiring, by 
necessity or habit, slave labor for their production, the capital necessary to car- 
ry on the work of this production is very considerable. The West Indies ai-e 
resorted to, therefore, rather for the investment of capital, than for the pm-pose 
of sustaining life by j^ei-sonal laboi'. Such as possess a considerable amount 
of capital, or such as choose to adventure in commercial speculations without 
capital, can alone be fitted to be emigi-ants to the islands. The agriculture of 
these regions, as before observed, is a sort of commerce ; and it is a species of 
employment in which labor seems to form an inconsiderable ingTedient in the 
productive causes, since the portion of white labor is exceedingly small, and 
slave labor is rather more like profit on stock or capital, than labor properly 
so called. The individual who undertakes an establishment of this kind, 
takes into the account the. cost of the necessary number of slaves, in the same 
mamier as he calculates the cost of the land. The imcertainty, too, of this 
species of employment, aflbrds another gi'ound of resemblance to commerce. 
Although gainful on the whole, and in a series of years, it is often very dis- 
astrous for a single }'ear, and, as the capital is not readily invested in other 
pui-suits, bad crops or bad markets not only affect the profits, but the capital 
itself. Hence the sudden depressions which take place in the value of such 
estates. 

But the gi'cat and leading observation, relative to these establishments, re- 
mains to be made. It is, that the owners ef the soil and of the capital sel- 
dom consider themselves at home in the colony. A very great poiiion of the 
SOU itself is usually owned in the mother countiy; a still greater is mortgaged 
for capital obtained there; and, in general, those who are to derive an inter- 
est from the products look to the ])arent countiy as the place for enjoyment 
of their wealth. The population is therefore constantly fluctuating. Nobody 
comes but to retum. A constant succession of ownei-s, agents and factors 
takes place. Whatsoever the soil, forced by the unmitigated toil of slavery, 
can yield, is sent home to defray rents, and interest, and agencies, or to give 
the means of living in a better society. In such a state, it is evident that no 
spirit of pei-manent improvement is hkely to spring up. Profits will not be 
invested with a distant \'iew of benefiting posterity. Roads and canals will 
liardly be built ; schools will not be founded; colleges will not be endowed 
'i'here will bo few fixtures in society , no principles of utility or of elegance, 
pliiiitcd now, with the hope of being develupod and ex))anded hereafter. 



105 

Profit, immediate profit, must be tliG principal active spring in tlie social sys- 
tem. There may be many particular exceptions to these general remarks, but 
the outline of the whole is such as is here drawn. 

Another most important consequence of such a state of things is, that no 
idea of independence of the parent country is hkely to arise ; unless, indeed, it 
should spring up in a fonn that would threaten univereal desolation. The 
inhabitants have no strong attachment to the place which they inhabit. The 
hope of a great portion of them is to leave it ; and then- great desire, to leave 
it soon. However useftd they may be to the parent state, how much soever 
they may add to the conveniencies and luxuries of Hfe, these colonies are not 
fovored spots for the expansion of the human mind, for the progress of per- 
manent improvement, or for sowing the seeds of future independent empire. 

Diiierent, indeed, most widely dhferent, fi-om all these instances of emigra- 
tion and plantation, were the condition, the purposes, and the prospects of our 
fathei-s, when they established their infant colony upon this spot. They came 
hither from a land to which they were never to return. Hither they had 
brought, and here they were to fix their hopes, their attachments, and their 
objects in life. Some natm-al tears they shed, as they left the pleasant abodes 
of then- fathei-s, and some emotions they suppressed, when the white cliffs of 
their native country, now seen for the last time, grew dim to their sight. They 
were acting, however, on a resolution not to be daimted. With whatever 
stifled regi'ets, with whatever occasional hesitation, with whatever appaUing 
apprehensions, which might sometimes arise with force to shake the fii-mest 
purpose, they had yet committed themselves to Heaven and the elements ; and 
a thousand leagues of water soon intei-posed to separate them for ever fi-om 
the region which gave them bhth. A new existence awaited them here ; and 
when they saw these shores, rough, cold, barbarous, and ban-en, as then they 
were, they beheld their coimtry. That mixed and strong feeling, which we call 
love of country, and which is, in general, never extinguished in the heart of 
man, grasped and embraced its proper object here. Whatever constitutes coun- 
ti-y, except the earth and the sun, aU the moral causes of affection and attach- 
ment which operate upon the heart, they had brought with them to their new 
abode. Here were now their families and friends, their homes, and their 
property. Before they reached the shore, they had estabhshed the elements 
of a social system, and at a much earlier period had settled their forms of 
religious worship. At the moment of their landing, therefore, they possessed 
institutions of government, and institutions of rehgion; and friends and 
famihes, and social and religious institutions, fi-amed by consent, founded on 
choice and preference, how nearly do these fill up our whole idea of country ! 
The morning that beamed on the first night of their repose saw the Pilgrims 
aheady at luome in their country. There were pohtical institutions, and civil 
liberty, and rehgious worship. Poetry has fancied nothing, in the wanderings 
of heroes, so distinct and characteristic. Here was man, indeed, unprotected, 
and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and fearful wilderness ; but it was 
politic, intelligent, and educated man. Every thing was civilized but the 
physical world. Institutions, containing in substance all that ages had dono 
for human government, were organized in a forest. Cultivated mind Avas to 
act on uncultivated nature ; and!, more than all, a goverament and a country 
were to commence, with the very first foundations laid imder the divine right 
of the Christian religion. Happy auspices of a happy futurity ! Who would 
wish that his country's existence had otherwise begun ? Who would desire 
the power of going back to the ages of fable ? Who would ^nsh for an 



106 

origin obscured in the darkness of antiquity ? Who would wish for other 
emblazoning of his country's hei-aldry, or other ornaments of her genealogy, 
than to be able to say, that her fii-st existence was with intelligence, her first 
breath the msphation of liberty, her first principle the truth of divine 
leligion ? 

Local attachments and sjTDpathies would ere long spring up in the breasts 
of our ancestors, endearing to them the place of their refuge. "Whatever 
natural objects are associated ^\ith interesting scenes and high efforts obtain a 
hold on human feehng, and demand from the heart a sort of recognition and 
regard. This Rock soon became hallowed in the esteem of the Pilgrims, and 
these hills gi-ateful to their sight. Neither they nor theii- children were again 
to till the soil of England, nor again to traveree the seas which suiTound her. 
But here was a new sea, now open to their enterprise, and a new soil, which 
had not failed to respond gratefully to their laborious industry, and wliich 
was already assuming a robe of verdure.- Hardly had they pro\ ided shelter 
for the living, ere they were summoned to erect sepulchres for the dead. The 
groaad had become sacred, by inclosing the remains of some of theii- com- 
panions and connections. A parent, a child, a husband, or a wife, had gone 
the way of all flesh, and mingled with the dust of New England. We natu- 
rally look with strong emotions to the spot, though it be a wilderness, where 
the ashes of those we have loved repose. Where the heart has laid down 
what it loved most, there it is desirous of laying itself down. No sculptured 
marble, no enduring monument, no honorable inscription, no ever-burning 
taper that would drive away the darkness of the tomb, can soften our sense of 
the reality of death, and hallow to om* feelings the ground which is to cover 
us, like the consciousness that we shall sleep, dust to dust, with the objects of 
our aftections. 

In a short time other causes spnmg up to bind the Pilgrims with new cords 
to then- chosen land. Children were born, and the hopes of future genera- 
tions arose, in the spot of their new habitation. The second generation found 
this the land of their nativity, and saw that they were bound to its fortunes. 
They beheld their fathers' graves around them, and while they read the 
memorials of their toils and labors, they rejoiced in the inheritance which they 
found bequeathed to them. 

Under the influence of these causes, it was to be expected that an interest 
and a feeling should arise here, entirely diflerent from the interest and feeling 
of mere Englishmen ; and all the subsequent history of the colonies proves 
this to have actually and gTadually taken place. With a general acknowledg- 
ment of the supiemacy of the British crown, there was, from the ih-st, a ro- 
pugnance to an entire submission to the control of Biitish legislation. The 
colonies stood upon their charters, which, as they contended, exempted them 
fi'om the ordinary power of the British Parliament, and autliorized them to 
conduct their own concerns by their own counsels. They utterly resisted the 
notion that they were to be ruled by the mere authority of the government 
at home, and would not endui-o even that their own charter governments 
should be established on the other side of the Atlantic. It was not a con- 
trolling or protecting board in England, but a government of their owh, and 
existing immediately within their limits, which could satisfy their wishes. 
It was easy to foresee, what we know also to have happened, that the first 
great cause of collision and jealousy would be, imder the notion of political 
economy then and still ])revalent in Europe, an attempt on the pait of the 
mother coimtry to monopolize the trade of the colonies. Whoever has looked 



107 

deeply into tne causes wliicli produced our Revolution, lias found, if I mistake 
not, the original principal far back in this claim, on the part of England, to 
monopolize our trade, and a continued eflfort on the part of the colonies to 
resist or evade that monopoly; if, indeed, it be not still more just and philoso- 
phical to go farther back, and to consider it decided, that an independent 
government must arise here, the moment it was ascertained that an English 
eolony, such as lauded in this place, could sustain itself agaiust the dangers 
tvhich surrounded it, and, with other similar establishments, overspread the 
sand with an English population. Accidental causes retarded at times, and 
at times accelerated the progress of the controversy. The colonies wanted 
ati-engih and time to give it to them. They required measures of strong and 
palpable injustice, on the pait of the mother coimtiy, to justify resistance ; the 
early part of the late king's reign furnished them. They needed spirits of 
high order, of gi-eat daring, of long foresight, and of commanding power, to 
seize the favoring occasion to strike a blow, which should sever, for all time, 
the tie of colonial dependence ; and these spirits were found, in aU the extent 
which that or any crisis could demand, in Otis, Adams, Hancock, and the 
other immediate authors of om- independence. 

Still, it is tme that, for a century, causes had been in operation tending to 
prepare things for this great result. In the year 16G0, the English Act of 
Na\dgation was passed ; the first and grand object of which seems to have, 
been to secure to England the whole trade with her plantations. It was pro- 
vided by that act that none but EngHsh ships should transport American 
produce over the ocean, and that the principal articles of that produce should 
be allowed to be sold only in the markets of the mother country. Three 
years aftenvards another law was passed, which enacted that such commodi- 
ties as the colonies might wish to purchase should be bought only in the 
markets of the mother country. Severe rules were prescribed to enforce the 
provisions of these laws, and heavy penalties imposed on all who should 
violate them. In the subsequent yeara of the same reign, other statutes were 
enacted to re-enforce these statutes, and other nUes prescribed to secure a com- 
pliance with these rules. In this manner was the trade to and from the 
colonies restricted, almost to the exclusive advantage of the parent country. 
But laws, which rendered the interest of a whole people subordinate to that 
of another people, were not likely to execute themselves ; nor was it easy to 
find many on the spot, who could be depended upon for can-ying them into 
execution. In fact, these laws were more or less evaded or resisted, in all the 
colonies. To enforce them was the constant endeavor of the govei-nment at 
home ; to prevent or elude their operation, the perpetual object here. " The 
laws of navigation," says a living British writer, " were nowhere so openly 
disobeyed and contemned as in !New England." " The people of Massachu- 
setts Bay," he adds, " were from the fii-st disposed to act as if independent 
of the mother country ; and ha\dng a governor and magistrates of their own 
choice, it was difficult to enforce any regulation which came from the English 
Parhament, adverse to their interests." To provide more effectually for the 
execution of these laws, we know that couila of admiralty were afterwards 
established by the crown, with power to tiy revenue causes, as questions of 
admiralty, upon the construction given by the crown lawyers to an act of Par 
liament; a great departure from the ordinary principles of English jurispi-u 
dence, but which has been mamtained, nevertheless, by the force of habit 
and precedent, and is adopted in our own existing forms of government. 

" There he," says another Enghsh writer, whose connection with the Board 



108 

of Trade baa enabled bim to ascertain many facts connected witb colonial 
history, " There lie among the documents in tbe Board of Ti-ade and State- 
paper office, tbe L.^at satisfactory proofs, from tbe epoch of the Enghsh 
Revolution in 1C88, throughout every reign, and during cvciy administration, 
of tbe settled pui-pose of tbe colonies to acquire direct independence and 
positive sovereignty." Perhaps this may be stated somewhat too strongly; 
but it cannot be denied that, from the very nature of the establishments here, 
and from tbe general character of the measures respecting their concerns early 
a^pted and steadily pmsucd by the English government, a division of the 
empire ■«'as tbe natural and necessary result to which every thing tended. 

I have dwelt on this topic, because it seems to me that the peculiar original 
character of tbe New England colonies, and certain causes coeval with their 
existence, have had a strong and decided influence on all their subsequent 
history, and especially on the gi'cat event of the Revolution. Whoever would 
write om- history, and would imderstand and explam early transactions, should 
comprehend tbe nature and force of the feeling which I have endeavored to 
describe. As a son, leaving the house of his father for bis own, finds, by the 
order of nature, and the very law of his being, nearer and dearer objects 
around which bis afiections circle, while bis attachment to tbe parental ?oof 
becomes moderated, by degi'ces, to a composed regard and an affectionate re- 
membrance ; so oiu' ancestors, leaving their native land, not without some 
violence to tbe feelings of nature and afiection, yet, in time, found here a new 
circle of engagements, interests and affections; a feeling, which more and 
more encroached upon tbe old, till an undivided sentiment, that this was their 
countnj, occupied tbe heart ; and patriotism, shutting out from its embraces 
the parent realm, became local to America. 

Some retrospect of the centmy which has now elapsed is among tbe duties 
of tbe occasion. It must, however, necessarily be imperfect, to be compressed 
within the limits of a single discourse. I shall content myself, therefore, with 
taking notice of a few of the leading and most important occuirences which 
have distinguished the period. 

When the first centmy closed, the progi-ess of the country appeared to have 
been considerable ; notwithstanding that, in comparison with its subsequent 
advancement, it now seems otherwise. A broad and lasting foundation had 
been laid ; excellent institutions bad been established ; many of tbe prejudices 
of former times had been removed ; a more liberal and catholic spirit on sub- 
jects of religious concern bad begun to extend itself, and many things con- 
spired to give promise of increasing future prosperity. Great men bad arisen 
in public life, and tbe liberal professions. The Mathers, father and son, were 
then sinking low in tbe western horizon; Leverett, tbe learned, tbe accom- 
pbshcd, the excellent Leverett, was about to withdraw his brilliant and useful 
light. In Pemberton great hopes had been suddenly extinguished, but 
Prince and Colman were in our sky ; and along tbe east bad begim to flash 
the crepuscular light of a great luminary which was about to apjiear, and 
•which w"as to stamp tbe age with his own name, as the age of Franklin. 

The bloody Indian wai-s, which harrassed tbe people for a part of the firet 
century ; the restrictions on tbe trade of tbe colonies, added to the discourage- 
ments inherently belonging to all fonns of colonial government; tbe distance 
from Eiu-ope, and the small hope of immediate profit to adventm-ers, are 
among tbe causes which had contributed to retard the progi-ess of population. 
Perhaps it may be added, also, that during the period of tbe civil wai-s in 
England, and the reign of Cromwell, many persons, whose religious opinions 



109 

and relio'ious temper miglit, under other circumstances, have induced them to 
join the New England colonists, found reasons to remain iu Englaud; either 
on account of active occupation in the scenes which were passing, or of an 
anticipation of the enjoyment, in their own country, of a form of government, 
^-ivil and rehgious, accommodated to their views and principles. The violent 
measures, too, pursued against the colonies in the reign of Charles the Second, 
(he mockery of a trial, and the forfeiture of the chai-ters, were serious evils. 
And during the open violence of the short reign of James the Second, and 
the tpanny of Andros, as the venerable historian of Connecticut observes, 
" AU the motives to great actions, to industry, economy, enterprise, wealth, 
and population, were iu a manner annihilated. A general inactivity and lan- 
guishment pervaded the public body. Liberty, properly, and every thing 
which ought to be dear to men, every day grew more and more insecure." 

With the Revolution in England, a better prospect had opened on this 
country, as well as on that. The joy had been as great at that event, and 
far more universal, in New England than in Old England. A new charter 
had been granted to Massachusetts, which, although it did not confirm to her 
inhabitants all their former privileges, yet relieved them from great evils and 
embarrassments, and promised future security. More than all, perhaps, the 
Revolution in England had done good to the general cause of liberty and 
justice. A blow had been sti'uck in favor of the rights and liberties, not of 
England alone, but of descendants and kinsmen of Englaud all over the world. 
Great political truths had been estabhshed. The champions of hberty had 
been successful in a fearful and perilous conflict. Somers, and Cavendish, and 
Jekyl, and Howaixl, had triumphed in one of the most noble causes ever un- 
dertaken by men. A revolution had been made upon principle. A monarch 
had been dethroned for violating the original compact between king and peo- 
ple. The rights of the people to partake in the government, and to limit 
the monarch by fundamental rules of government, had been maintained ; and 
however unjust the government of England might afterwards be towards 
other governments or towards her colonies, she had ceased to be governed her- 
self by the arbitrary maxims of the Stuarts. 

New England had submitted to the violence of James the Second not long- 
er than Old England. Not only was it reserved to Massachusetts, that on her 
soil should be acted the first scene of that great revolutionary drama, which 
was to take place near a centuiy afterwards, but the English Revolution itself, 
as far as the colonies were concerned, commenced in Boston. The seizure 
and imprisonment of Andros, in Api'il, 1689, were acts of direct and forcible 
resistance to the authority of James the Second. The pulse of liberty beat 
as high in the extremities as at the heart. The vigorous feeling of the colony 
burst out before it was known how the parent country w^ould finally conduct 
herself. The king's representative, Sir Edmund Andros, was a prisoner in 
the castle at Boston, before it was or- could be known that the king himself 
had ceased to exercise his full dominion on the English throne. 

Before it was known here, whether the invasion of the Prince of Orange 
would or could prove successful ; as soon only as it was knowTi that it had 
been undertaken, the people of Massachusetts, at the imminent hazards of 
their lives and fortunes, had accomplished the revolution as far as respected 
themselves. It is probable, that, reasoning on general principles, and the 
known attachment of the English people to their constitution and liberties, 
and their deep and fixed dislike of the king's religion and politics, the people 
of New England expected a catastrophe fatal to the power of the reigning 



no 

Prince. Yet, it -was not either certain enougli, or near enough, to come to 
their aid against the authority of the crown, in that crisis -VN-luch had arrived, 
and in which they tnisted to put themselves, relying on God, and their own 
courage. There were spirits in Massachusetts, congenial Avith the spirits of the 
distinguished friends of the revolution in England. Thore were those, who 
were fit to associate with the boldest assei-ters of civil liberty ; and Mather 
himself, then in England, was not unworthy to be ranked with those sons of 
the church, whose firmness and spirit in resisting kingly encroachment in re- 
ligion, entitled them to the gratitude of their OAvn and succeeding ages. 

The second century opened upon New England under circumstances which 
evinced that much had already been accomplished, and that still better pros- 
pects, and brighter hopes, were before her. She had laid, deep and strong, 
the foundations of her society. Her religious principles were finn, and her 
moral habits exemplary. Her public schools had begim to difiiise widely the 
elements of knowledge ; and the College, under the excellent and acceptable 
administration of Leverett, had been raised to a high degree of credit and 
usefulness. 

The commercial character of the countiy, notwithstanding all discourage- 
ment, had begun to display itself, and Jive hundred vessels, then belonging to 
Massachusetts, placed her in relation to commerce, thus eai-ly, at the head of 
the colonies. An author w^ho wrote veiy near the close of the fii-st century 
says; "New England is almost deserving that noile name, so mightily hath 
it increased; and from a small settlement, at fii-st, is now become' a \erj popu- 
lous and flourishing government. The capital city, Boston, is a place of 
great wealth and trade; and by much the largest of any in the English em- 
pire of America ; and not exceeded but by few cities, perhaps two or three, 
in all the American world." 

But, if our ancestors at the close of the first century, could look back with 
joy, and even admiration at the progress of the country ; what emotions must 
we not feel, when, from the point in which we stand, we look back and run 
along the events of the centuiy which has now closed ? The country, which 
then, as we have seen was thought deserving of a " noble name;" Avhich then 
had " mightily increased," and become "very populous;" what was it, in com- 
parison with what our eyes behold it ? At that period, a very gi-eat propor- 
tion of its inhabitants lived in the eastern section of Massachusetts proper, and 
in this colony. In Connecticut, there were towns along the coast, some of 
them respectable, but in the interior, all was a wilderness beyond Hartford. — 
On Connecticut river, settlements had proceeded as far up as Deerfield, and 
Fort Dummer had been built, near where is now the south hne of New Hamp- 
shire. In New Hampshire, no settlement was then beg-un thuty miles from the 
mouth of Piscataqua river, and, in what is now Maine, the inhabitants were 
confined to the coast. The aggregate of the whole population of New Eng- 
land did not exceed one hundred and sixty thousand. Its present amount is 
prol)ably one million seven hundred thousand. Instead of being confined to 
its former liniits, her population has rolled backward and filled up the spaces 
included within her actual local boundaries. Not this only, but it has over- 
flowed those boundaries, and the waves of emigration have pressed further and 
furtlior toward the west. The Alleghany has not checked it; the b.mlcs of 
the Ohio have been covered with it. New England farms, houses, viil-^ges, 
and churches spread over, and adorn the immense extent from the Ohic to 
Lake Erie; and stretch along, from the Alleghany onwards, beyond tht' 
Miamis, and toward the Falls of St. Anthony. Two thousand miles west- 



Ill 

ward from tlie rock wlaere their fathers landed, may now bo found the soils of 
the Pilgrims; cultivating smiling fields, rearuig towns and villages, and cher- 
ishing, we trust, the patrimonial blessings of wise institutions, of libeity and 
relio-ion. The world has seen nothing like this. Rogions large enough to 
be empires, and which, half a centmy ago, were known only as remote and 
unexplored wildernesses, are now teeming with population, and prosperous in 
all the great coucenis of life ; in good governments, the means of subsistence, 
and social happiness, It may be safely asserted, that there are now more than 
a million of people, descendants of New England ancestry, living free and 
happy, in regions, which hardily sixty years ago were tracts of unpenetrated 
forest. Nor do rivei-s, or mountains, or seas resist the progress of industry and 
enterprise. Ere long, the sons of the Pilgrims will be on the shores of tho 
Pacific. The imagination hardily keeps up with the progress of population, 
improvement, and civilization. 

It is uow^ five and forty years, since the growth and rising glory of Ameri- 
ca were portrayed in the English parhament, with inimitable beauty, by the 
most consummate orator of modern times. Going back somewhat more than 
half a century, and describing our progTess as foreseen from that point, by his 
amiable friend Lord Bathurst, then li^-ing, he spoke of the wonderful progress 
which America had made during the period of a single human life. There 
is no American heart, I imagine, that does not glow, both with conscious 
patriotic pride, and admiration for one of the happiest eftbrts of eloquence, so 
often as the vision, of " that little speck, scarce visible in the jnass of national 
interest, a small seminal principle, rather than a formed body," and the pro- 
gress of its astonishing developement and gTowth, are recalled to the recollec- 
tion. But a stronger feehng might be produced, if we were able to take up 
this prophetic description where he left it ; and placing ourselves at the point 
of time in which he was speaking, to set forth with equal fehcity the subse- 
quent progress of the country. There is yet among the living a most distin- 
guished and venerable name, a descendant of the Pilgrims ; one who has been 
attended through life by a great and fortunate genius ; a man illustrious by 
liis own great merits, and favored of Heaven in the long continuation of his 
years. The time when the English orator was thus speaking of America, 
preceded, by a few days, the actual opening of the revolutionary drama at 
Lexington. He to whom I have alluded, then at the age of forty, was among 
the most zealous and able defenders of the violated rights of his country. — 
He seemed ah-eady to have filled a full measure of public service, and attain- 
ed an honorable fame. The moment was fuU of difficulty and danger, and 
big with events of immeasurable importance. The countiy was on the very 
brink of a cinl war, of which no man could foretell the duration or the re- 
sult. Something more than a courageous hope, or characteristic ardor, would 
have been necessary to impress the glorious prospect on his belief, if, at that 
moment, before the sound of the first shock of actual war had reached his 
ears, some attendant spirit had opened to hiin the vision of the future ; if it 
had said to him, '• The blow is struck, and America is severed from England 
forever !" if it had infonned him, that he himself, the next annual revolution 
of the sun, should put his own hand to the great instrument of Independence, 
and write his name where all nations should beliold it, and all time should not 
efface it; that ere long he himself should maintain the interest and represent 
the sovereignty of his new-born country, in the proudest courts of Europe ; 
that he should one day exercise her supreme magistracy ; that he should yet 
hve to behold ten milhons of fellow citizens pajong him tho homage of their 



112 

deepest gratitude and kindest affections ; that he should see distinguished tal- 
ent and high pubhc ti-ust resting where his name rested ; and that he should 
even see with his own unclouded eyes, the close of the second centvu^-^ of New 
England, who had begun hfe almost with its commencement, and lived thi-ough 
neai-ly half the whole history of his country ; and that on the morning of this 
auspicious day, he should be found in the poUtical councils of his native state, 
revising by the light of experience, that system of government, which forty 
years before he had assisted to frame and establish ; and great and happy as 
lie should then behold his country, there should be nothing in prospect to 
cloud the scene, nothing to check the ardor of that confident and patriotic 
hope, which should glow in his bosom to the end of his long protracted and 
happy life. 

It would far exceed the limits of this discourse, even to mention the princi- 
pal events even in the civil and political history of New England during the 
century ; the more so, as for the last half of the period, that history has been 
most happily, closely intei-woven with the general histoiy of the United States. 
New England bore an honorable pait in the wars which took place between 
England and France. The capture of Louisburg gave her a character for 
military achievement ; and in the war which tei-minated with the peace of 
1763, her exertions on the frontiei-s were of most essential service as well to 
the mother country as to all the colonies. 

In New England the N^-ar of the revolution commenced. I addiess those ' 
who remember the memorable 19th of April, 1775; who shortly after saw 
the burning spires of Charlestown ; who beheld the deeds of Prescott, and 
heard the voice of Putnam, amidst the storm of war, and saw the generous 
"Warren fall, the fii-st distinguished victim m the cause of liberty. It would 
be superfluous to say, that no portion of the country did more than the states 
of New England, to bring the revolutionary struggle to a successful issue. — 
It is scarcely less to her credit, that she saw eaiiy the necessity of a closer 
union of the states, and gave an efficient and mdispensable aid to the estab- 
lishment and organization of the federal government. 

Perhaps we might safely say, that a new spirit, and a new excitement be- 
gan to exist here, about the middle of the last century. To whate^-er causes 
it may be imputed, there seems then to have commenced a more rapid im- 
provement. The colonies had attracted more of the attention of the mother 
country, and some renown in arms had been acquired. Lord Chatham was 
the first English minister who attached high importance to these possessions 
of the crown, and who foresaw an3'thing of their future growth and extension. 
His opinion was, that the great rival of England was chiefly to be feared as a 
maiitime and commercial power, and to drive her out of North America, and 
deprive her of her West India possessions w;^s a leading object in his polic}'. 
He dwelt often on the fisheries, as nurseries of British seamen, and the colo- 
nial trade, as furnishing them employment. The war, conducted by him with 
vigor, terminated in a peace, by which Canada was ceded to England. The 
efl'ect of this was immediately visible in the New England colonies; for the 
fear of Indian hostilities on the fi-ontiers being now happily removed, settle- 
ments went on with an activity before that time altogether unprecedented, and 
public aflairs wore a new and encouraging aspect. Shortly after this foi-tu- 
nate tennination of the French war, the interesting topics connected wilii the 
taxation of America by the British Pariiament began to be discussed, and the 
attention and all the faculties of the people drawn towards them. There is 
perhaps no portion of om- history mori full of interest than the period from 



113 

1760 to the actual commencement of the war. The progress of opinion, in 
this period, though less known, is not less important, than the progress of arms 
afterwards. Nothing deserves more consideration than those events and dis- 
cussions which affected the pubHc sentiment, and settled the revolution in 
men's minds, before hostilities openly broke out. 

Internal improvement followed the estabhshment, and prospei'ous com- 
mencement, of the present government. More has been done for roads, 
canals, and other public works, within the last thirty years, than in all our 
former history. In the first of these particulars, few countries excel the New 
England States. The astonishing increase of the navigation and trade is 
known to every one, and now belongs to the history of our national wealth. 

We may flatter om'selves, too, that literature and taste have not been 
stationary, and that some advancement has been made in the elegant, as well 
as in the useful arts. 

The nature and constitution of society and government in this country are 
interesting topics, to which I would devote what remains of the time aUowed 
to this occasion. Of our system of government the first thing to be said is, 
that it is really and practically a free system. It originates entirely with the 
people, and rests on no other foundation than their assent. To judge of its 
actual operation, it is not enough to look merely at the form of its construc- 
tion. The practical character of government dejDcnds often on a variety of 
considerations, besides the abstract frame of its constitutional organization. 
Among these are the condition and tenure of property ; the la^^■s regulating 
its alienation and descent; the presence or absence of a military power; an 
armed or unarmed yeomanry ; the spirit of the age, and the degree of general 
intelligence. In these respects it cannot be denied that the circumstances of 
this country are most favorable to the hope of maintaining the government 
of a great nation on principles entirely popular. In the absence of military 
power, the nature of government must essentially depend on the manner in 
which property is holden and distributed. There is a natural influence be- 
longing to property, whether it exists in many hands or few ; and it is on the 
right of property that both despotism and unrestrained popular violence or- 
dinarily commence their attacks. Our ancestors began their sj-stem of gov- 
ernment here under a condition of comparative equahty in regard to wealth, 
and their early laws were of a nature to favor and continue this equality. 

A republican form of government rests not more on political constitutions, 
than on those laws which regulate the descent and ti-ansmission of property. 
Governments like ours could not have been maintained, where property was 
holden according to the principles of the feudal system ; nor, on the other 
haad, could the feudal constitution possibly exist with us. Our New England 
ancestors brought hither no great capitals from Europe; and if they had, 
there was nothing productive in which thjjy could have been in\ested. They 
left behind them the whole feudal policy of the other continent. They broke 
away at once from the system of military service established in the Dark 
Ages, and which continues, down even to the present time, more or less to 
afiect the condition of jn-operty all over Europe. They came to a new country. 
There were, as yet, no lands yielding rent, and no tenants rendering service. 
The whole soil was unreclaimed from barbarism. They were themselves, 
either from their original condition, or from the necessity of their common in- 
terest, nearly on a general level in respect to property. Their situation de- 
manded a parcelling out and division of the lands, and it may be fairly said 
that this necessary act fixed the future frame and form of their government. 



114 

The character of their political institutions was determined by the fundamen- 
tal la^s respecting property. The laws of primogeniture, at fii-st limited and 
curtailed, was afteiTvards aboli/shed. The property was all freehold. The en- 
tailment of estates, long tnist.*, and the other processes for fettering and tying 
up inheritances, were not applicable to the condition of society, ai-d seldom 
made itse of. On the contrary, alienation of tho land was every way facilita- 
ted, even to the subjecting of it to every species of debt. The establishment 
of public registries, and the simplicity of our fonns of conveyance, have 
greatly facilitated the change of real estate from one proprietor to another. 
The consequence of all these causes has been, a great subdivision of the soil, 
and a gi-eat equality of condition; the true basis, most certainly, of a popular 
government. " If the people," says ilaiTuigton, " hold thi-ee parts in four of 
the tenitory, it is plain there can neither be any single pei-son nor nobihty 
able to dispute the government with them; in this case, therefore, exc^i 
force be interposed, they govcni themselves." 

The history of other nations may teach us how favorable to public hberty 
are the division of tho soil into small fi-eeholds, and a system of laws, of 
which the tendency is, without violence or injustice, to produce and to pre- 
serve a degree of equality of property. It has been estimated, if I mistake 
not, that about the time of Henry the Seventh four-fifths of the land in 
EnMand was holden by the gTcat barons and ecclesiastics. The eflfects of a 
gi-owing commerce soon afterwards began to break in on this state of things, 
and before the Revolution, in 1CS8, a vast change had been wrought. It 
may be thought probable that, for the last half century, the process of sub- 
division in England has been retarded, if not reversed; that the great weight 
of taxation has compelled many of the lesser fi-eeholders to dispose of their 
estates, and to seek employment" in the aimy and na\7, in the professions of 
civil life, in commerce, or in the colonies. The effect of this on the British 
constitution cannot but be most unfavorable. A few large estates grow larger; 
but the number of those who have no estates also increases; and there may 
be danger, lest the inequality of property become so great, that those who 
possess it may be dispossessed by force; in other words, that the government 
may be overturned. 

A most interesting experiment of the effect of a subdivision of property on 
goveiTiment is now making in France. It is imdcrstood, that the_ law regu- 
lating the transmission of property in that country, now divides it, real and 
personal, among all the children equally, both sons and daughtei-s; and that 
there is, also, a very great restraint on the power of making dispositions of 
property by will. It has been supposed, that the effects of this might proba- 
bly be, in time, to break up the soil into such small subdivisions, that the pro- 
' r)rietoi-s Avould be too poor to resist the encroachments of executive power. I 
think far otherAvise. What is lost in individual wealth will_ be more than 
gained in numbers, in intelligence, and. in a sympathy of sentiment. If, in- 
deed, only one or a few landholders were to resist the crown, like the barons 
of England, they must, of course, bo great and powerful landholders, with 
multitudes of retainei-s, to promise success. But if the pi'oprietors of a given 
extent of territory are summoned to resistance, there is no reason to behevo 
that such resistance would be less forcible, or less successful, because the num- 
ber of such proprietoi-s happened to be great. Each would perceive his own 
importance, and his own interest, and would feel that natural elevation of 
character which the consciousness of property inspires. A common senti- 
ment would unite all, and numbere would not only add strength, but excite 



115 

enthusiasm. It is true, that France possesses a vast military force, undei the 
direction of an heriditary executive government; and military power, it is pos- 
sible, may overthrow any government. It is in vain, however, in this period 
of the world, to look for security against military power to the arm of the 
great landholders. That notion is derived from a state of things long sinc<J 
past; a state in which a feudal baron, with his retainers, might stand againsl 
the sovereign and his retainers, himself but the greatest baron. But at pres- 
ent, what could the richest landholder do, against one regiment of disciplined 
troops ? Other secm-ities, therefore, against the prevalence of military power 
must be provided. Happily for us, we are not so situated as that any purpose 
of national defence requires, ordinarily and constantly, such a military force as 
might seriously endanger om- liberties. 

In respect, however, to the recent law of succession in France, to which I 
have alluded, I would, presumptiously perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that, if 
the government do not change the law, the law in half a century will chango 
the government; and that this change wuU be, not in favor of the power of 
the crown, as some European wTiters have supposed, but against it. Those 
writers only reason upon what they think correct general principles, in relation 
to this subject They acknowledge a want of experience. Here we have had 
that experience ; and we know that a multitude of small proprietors, acting 
with intelligence, and that enthusiasm wliich a common cause inspires, con- 
stitute not only a formidable, but an invincible power. 

The true principle of a free and popular government woidd seem to be, so 
to construct it as to give to all, or at least to a very great majority, an interest 
in its preservation ; to found it,' as other things are founded, on men's interest 
The stability of government demands that those who desne its continuance 
should be more powerful than those who desne its dissolution. This power, 
of course, is not always to be measured by mere numbers. Education, wealth, 
talents, are all parts and elements of the general aggregate of power ; but 
numbei-s, nevertheless, constitute ordinarily the most important consideration, 
unless, indeed, there be a military force in the hands of the few, by which they 
can control the many. In this country Ave have actually existing systems of 
government, in the maintenance of which, it should seem, a great majority, 
both in numbers and in other means of power and influence, niust see their 
interest. But this state of things is not brought about solely by writtten po- 
litical constitutions, or the mere manner of organizing the government; but 
also by the laws which regulate the descent and transmission of property. 
The freest government, if it could exist, would not be long acceptable, if the 
tendency of the laws were to create a rapid accumulation of propei-t}4 in few 
hands, and to render the great mass of the population dependent and penni- 
less. In such a case, the popular power would be likely to break in upon the 
rights of property, or else the influence of property to limit and control the 
exercise of popular power. Universal suffi-age, for example, could not long 
exist in a community- where there was great inequality of property. The 
holdei-s of estates would be obliged, in such case, in some way to restrain the 
right of suffi-age, or else such right of sufli'age would, before long, divide the 
property. In the nature of things, those who have not property, and see their 
neighbors possess much more than they think them to need, cannot be fovora- 
ble to laws made for the protection of property. When this class becomes 
numerous, it grows clamorous. It looks on property as its prey and plunder, 
and is naturally ready, at all times, for violence and revolution. 

It would seem, then, to be the part of poUtical wisdom to found government 



no 

oa property ; and to establish such distribution of property, by the laws which 
regulate its transmission and alienation, as to interest the great majority of so- 
ciety in the support of the government. This is, I imagine, the true theory 
and the actual j)ractice of wu- republican institutions. With property divided 
as we have it, no other government than that of a republic could be maintained 
even were we foolish enough to desire it. There is reason, therefore, to ex- 
pect a long continuance of our system. Party and passion, doubtless, may 
prex'ail at times, and much temporary mischief be done. Even modes and 
forms may be changed, and perhaps for the worse. But a, great revolution in 
regard to property must take place, before our governments can be moved 
from their republican basis, unless they be violently strack off by militaiy 
power. The people possess the property, more emphatically than it could 
ever be said of the people of any other countiy, and they can have no 
interest to overturn a government which protects that property by equal 
laws. 

Let it not be supposed, that this state of things possesses too strong ten- 
dencies towards the production of a dead and uninteresting level in society. 
Such tendencies are sufficiently counteracted by the infinite diversities in the 
characters and fortunes of individuals. Talent, activity, industry, and en- 
terprise tend at all times to produce inequality and distinction ; and there is 
room still for the accumulation of wealth, with its gTcat advantages, to all rea- 
sonable and useful extent. It has been often urged agahist the state of socie- 
ty in America, that it furnishes no class of fortune and leisure. This may be 
partly ti'ue, but it is not entu-ely so, and tlie evil, if it be one, would affect 
rather the progTCss of taste and Hterature, than the general prosperity of the 
people. But the promotion of taste and literature cannot be primary objects 
of political institutions; and if they could, it might be doubted whether, in 
the long course of things, as much is not gained by a wide diffusion of gen- 
eral Icnowledge, as is lost by diminishing the number of those who are ena- 
bled by fortune and leisure to devote themselves exclusively to scientific and 
literary pursuits. However this may be, it is to be considered that it is the 
spirit of our system to be equal and general, and if there be particular disad- 
vantages incident to this, they are far more than counterbalanced by the ben- 
efits which weigh against them. The important concerns of society are gen- 
erally conducted, in all countries, by the men of business and practical ability ; 
and even in matters of taste and literature, the advantages of mere leisure are 
liable to bo overrated. If there exist adequate means of education and a love 
of letters be excited, that love will find a way to the object of its desire, through 
the crowd and pressure of the most busy society. 

Connected with this division of property, and the consequent participation 
of the great mass of people in its possession and enjoyments, is the system of 
rei)resentation, which is admirably accommodated to our condition, better un- 
derstood among us, and more familiarly and extensively practiced, in the high- 
er and in the lower departments of government, than it has been by any other 
people. Great facility has been given to this in New England by the early 
division of the country into townships or small districts, in which all concerns 
of local police are regulated, and in Avhicli i-epresentatives to the legislature are 
elected. Nothing can exceed the utility of these little bodies. They are so 
many councils or parliaments, in which common interests are discussed, and 
uj'^eful knowledge acquired and communicated. 

The division of governments into departments, and the division, again, of 
the legislative department into two chambers, are essential provisions in our 



117 

sj'stem. This last, although not new in itself, yet sceins to be new ui ils ap- 
plication to governments wholly popular. The Grecian republics, it is plain, 
knew nothing of it; and in Rome, the check and balance of legislative power, 
such as it was, lay between the people and the senate. Indeed, few things 
are more difficult than to Jiscertain accurately the true nature and construcliun 
of the Roman commonwealth. . The relative power of the senate and the 
people of tha consuls and the tribunes, appears not to have been at all tinies 
the same, nor at any time accurately defined or strictly observed. Cicero, in- 
deed, describes to us an admirable arrangement of political power, and a bal- 
ance of the constitution, in that beautiful passage, in which he compares the 
democracies of Greece with the Roman commonwealth." _ " morem precla- 
rum, disciplinamque, quam a majoribns accepimus, si quidem teneremus ! scd 
nescio quo pacto jam de manibus elabitur. Eullam enim illi nostri sapientis- 
simi et sanctissimi viri vim concionis esse voluerunt, quaj scisseret plebs, aut 
qu^ populus juberet; summota conscione, distributis partibus, tributim et 
centuriatim descriptis ordinibus, classibus, ajtatibus, auditus auctoribus, re mul- 
tos dies promulgata et cognita, juberi vetarique voluerunt. Grsecorum autem 
totce respubUcse sedentis concionis temeritate administrantur. 

But at what time this wise system existed in this perfection at Rome, no 
proofs remain to show. Her constitution, originally framed for a monarchy, 
never seemed to be adjusted in its several parts after the expulsion of the 
kings. Liberty there was, but it was a disputatious, an uncertain, an ill-se- 
cured liberty. The patrician and plebian orders, instead^ of being matched 
and joined, each in its just place and proportion, to sustain the fabric ot the 
state, were rather like hostile powers, in pei-petual conflict. ^ With us, an at- 
tempt has been made, and so far not without success, to divide representation 
into chambers, and, by difference of age, character, qualification, or mode of 
election, to establish salutary checks, in governments altogether elective. 

Having detained you so long with these observations, I must yet advcit to 
another most interesting topic, — the Free Schools. In this particular. New 
England may bo allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a peculiar character, 
She early adopted, and has constantly maintained the principle, that it is the 
undoubted right and the bounden duty of government to provide for the in- 
struction of all youth. That which is elsewhere left to chance or charity, we 
secure by law. For the purpose of public instruction, we hold every mau 
subject to taxation in proportion to his property, and we look not to the ques- 
tion, whether he himself have, or have not, children to be benefitted by the 
education for which he pays. We regard it as a wise and hberal system of 
police, by which property, and life, and the peace of society are secured. Wo 
seek to prevent in some measure the extension of the penal code, by inspiring 
a salutary and conservative principle of virtue and of knowledge in an early 
age. We strive to excite a feeling of respectabiHty, and a sense of character, 
by enlarging the capacity and increasing the sphere of intellectual enjoyment 
By general instruction, we seek, as far possible, to purify the whole mor:d 
atmosphere ; to keep good sentiments uppermost, and to turn the strong cur- 
rent of feeUng and opinion, as well as the censures of the law and the denun- 
ciations of religion, against immorality and ci'ime. We hope for a security 
beyond the law, and above the law, in the prevalence of an enlightened and 
well-principled moral sentiment. We hope to continue and prolong the time, 
when, in the villages and farm-houses of New England, there may bo uudis- 
tm-bed sleep within unbarred doors. And knowing that our government rests 
directly on the pubhc will, in order that we may preserve it, we endeavor to 



118 

give a safe and pro^>or diicctioi- jj that public will. We do not, indeed, er- 
peot all men to be philosophcK or statesmen ; but we confidently trust, and 
oiu" expectiition of the duration of our system of government rests on that 
trust, that, by the diffusion of general knowledge and good and virtuous sen- 
timents, the political fabric may be secure, as well against open violence and 
overthrow, as against the slow, but sure, undei-mining of licentiousness. 

We know that, at the present time, an attempt is making in the English 
Parliament to provide by law for the education of the poor, and that a gen- 
tleman of distinguished character QAx. Brougham) has taken the lead in pre- 
senting a plan to government for carrying that purpose into effect. And yet, 
although the representatives of the three kingdoms hstened to him with as- 
tonishment as well as delight, we hear no principles with which we ourselves 
have not been familiar from youth ; we see nothing in the plan but an ap- 
proach towards that system which has been estabhshed in Kew England for 
more than a centuiy and a haK It is said that in England not more than 
one child in fifteen possesses the means of being taught to read and write ; 
in Wales, one in tioenty ; in Fi-ance, until lately, when some improvement was 
made, not more than one in thirty-five. Now, it is hardly too strong to say, 
that m New England every child possesses, such means. It would be diffi- 
cult to find an instance to the contrary, unless where it should be owing to the 
negligence of the parent; and, in truth, the means are actually used and en- 
joyed by nearly every one. A youth of fifteen, of either sex, who cannot 
both read and write, is very seldom to be found. _ Who can make this com- 
parison, or contemplate this spectacle, without delight and a feeling of just 
pride ? Does any history show property more beneficently applied ? Did any 
government ever subject the property of those who have estates to a burden, 
for a purpose more favorable to the poor, or more useful to the whole com- 
munity ? 

A conviction of importance of public instruction was one of the earliest 
sentiments of our ancestors. No lawgiver of ancient or modem times has ex- 
pressed more just opinions, or adopted wiser measures, than the early records 
of the Colony of Plymouth show to have prevailed here. Assembled on this 
very spot, a hundred and fifty three years ago, the legislature of this Colony 
declared, " Forasmuch as the maintenance of good literature doth much tend 
to the advancement of the weal and flourishing state of societies and repub- 
lics, this Court doth therefore order, that in whatever township in this go^'ern- 
jnent, consisting of fifty families or upwai'ds, any meet man shall be obtained 
to teach a gi-ammar school, such township shall allow at least twelve pounds, 
to be raised by rate on aU the inhabitants." 

Having provided that all youth should be instmcted in the elements of 
learning by the institution of free schools, om- ancestore had yet another duty 
to pertbrm. Men were to bo educated for the professions and the public. 
For this purpose they founded the University, and with inci-edible zeal and 
pei-aeverance they cherished and supported it, through all trials and discour- 
agements. On the subject of the Univei'sity, it is not possible for a son of 
New England to think without pleasure, or to speak without emotion. Noth- 
ing confers more honor on the State where it it is established, or more utility 
on the country at large. A respectable university is an establishment which 
must be the work of time. If pecuniary means were not wanting, no new 
institution could possess character and respectabihty at once. We owe deep 
obligation to our ancestors, who began, almost on the moment of their ari'ival 
the work of building up the institution. 



119 

Altliougli established in a different government, the Colony of Plymouth 
manifested warm friendship for Harvard College. At an early period, its 
govei'nment took measures to promote a general subscription throughout all 
the towns in this Colony, in aid of its smaU funds. Other colleges were sub- 
sequently founded and endowed, in other places, as the ability of the people 
allowed ; and we may flatter ourselves, that the means of education at present 
enjoyed in New England are not only adequate to the diffusion of the ele 
ments of knowledge among all classes, but sufficient also for respectable at- 
tainments in literature and the sciences. 

Lastly, our ancestors established their system of government on morality 
and religious sentiment. Moral habits, they beheved, cannot safely be trusted 
on any other foundation than religious principle, nor any government be se- 
cure which is not supported by moral habits. Living under the hern'enlv 
light of revelation, they hoped to find all the social dispositions, all the duties 
which men owe to each other and to society, enforced and performed. What- 
ever makes men good Christians, makes them good citizens. Our fathers 
came here to enjoy their rehgion free and unmolested ; and, at the end of two 
centuries, there is nothing upon which we can pronounce more confidently, 
nothing of which we can express a more deep and earnest conviction, than of 
the inestimable importance of that religion to man, both in regard to this life 
and that which is to come. 

If the blessings of our political and social condition have not been too 
highly estimated, we cannot well overrate the responsibility and duty which 
they impose upon us. We hold these institutions of government, religion, and 
learning, to be transmitted, as well as enjoyed. We are in the line of con- 
veyance, through which whatever has been obtained by the spirit and effoi-ts 
of om- ancestors is to be communicated to our children. 

We are bound to maintain public liberty, and, by the example of om- own 
systems, to convince the world that order and law, religion and morality, the 
rights of conscience, the rights of persons, and the rights of property, may all 
be preserved and secured, in the most perfect manner, by a government entire- 
ly and purely elective. If we fail in this, our disaster will be signal, and wiU 
fm-nish an argument, stronger than has yet been foimd, in support of those 
opinions which maintain that government can rest safely on nothing but pow- 
er and coercion. As far as experience may show errors in om- estabhshments, 
we are bound to correct them ; and if any practices exist contrary to the prin- 
ciples of justice and humanity within the reach of our laws or our influence, 
we are inexcusable if wo do not exert ourselves to restrain and abolish 
them. 

I deem it my duty on this occasion to suggest, that the land is not yet 
wholly free- from the contamination of a traffic, at which every feeling of liu- 
manity must for ever revolt, — I mean the African slave-trade. At the mo- 
ment when God in his mercy has blessed the Christian world with a univer- 
sal peace, there is reason to fear, that, to the disgrace of the Chi'istian name 
and character, new efforts are making for the extension of this trade by sub- 
jects and citizens of Christian states, in whose hearts there dwell no senti- 
ments of humanity or of justice, and over whom neither the fear of God nor 
the fear of man exercises a control. In the sight of our law, the African 
slave-trader is a pirate and a felon ; and in the sight of Heaven, an offender 
far beyond the ordinary depth of human giiilt. There is no brighter page of 
our history, than that which records the measures which have been adopted 
by the government at an early day, and at different times since, for the sup- 
9 



120 

pression of this traflSc ; and I would call on all tlie true sons of New Edj 
land to co-operate with the laws of man, and the justice of Heaven. K thei 
be, within the extent of our knowledge or influence, any participation in thw 
trafiic, let us pledge ourselves here, upon the rock of Plymouth, to extirj^aie 
and destroy it. It is not fit that the land of the Pilgi-ims shoidd bear the 
shame longe/. I hear the sound of the hammer, I see the smoke of the fur- 
naces where manacles and fettere are stiU forged for hmman limbs. I see the 
visages of those who by stealth and at midnight labor in this work of hell, 
foul and dark, as may become the artificers of such instiniments of misery 
and torture. Let that spot be purified, or let it cease to be of I^ew England. 
Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from the Chiistian world ; let it be put 
out of the circle of human s}Tnpathies and human regards, and let civilized 
man henceforth have no communion with it. 

I would invoke those Avho fill the seats of justice, and all who minister at 
her altar, that they execute the wholesome and necessary severity of the law. 
I invoke the ministere of our religion, that they proclaim its denunciation of 
these crimes, and add the solemn sanctions to the authority of human laws. 
If the pulpit be silent, whenever, or wherever, there may be a sinner bloody 
with this guilt, within the heai'ing of its voice, the pulpit is false to its tnist. 
I call on the fan- merchant, who have reaped his haiTcst upon the seas, that 
he assist in scourging from those seas the woi-st pirates which ever infested 
them. That ocean, wliich seems to wave with a gentle magnificence to waft 
the burden of an honest commerce, and to roll along its treasures with a con- 
scious pride ; that ocean, which hardy industry regards, even when the winda 
have Tuflled its surface, as a field of gi-ateful toil, what is it to be the victim 
of this oppression, when he is brought to its shores, and looks forth upon it, 
for the fii-st time, from beneath chains, and bleeding with stripes ? What is i\ 
to him, but a wide spread prospect of sufiering, anguish and death ? Nor do 
the skies smile longer, nor is the air longer fragrant to him. The sun is cast 
do'wn from heaven. An inhuman and accursed traffic has cut him ofi" in his 
manhood, or in his youth, from e^'ery enjoyment belonging to his being, and 
every blessing which his Creator intended for him. 

The Christian communities send forth their emissaries of religion and let- 
ters, who stop, here and there, along the coast of the vast continent of Africa, 
and with painful and tedious efforts, make some almost imperceptible progress 
in the communication of knowledge, and in the general improvement of the 
natives who are immediately about them. Not thus slow aud imperceptible 
is the transmission of the vices and bad passions which the subjects of Chi'is- 
tian states carry to the land. The slave trade having touched the coast, its 
influence and its evils spread, like a pestilence, over the whole continent, mak- 
ing savage wai-s more savage, and more frequent, and adding new and fierce 
passions to the contests of barbarians, 

I pursue this topic no further; except again to say, that aU Christendom 
being now blessed with peace, is bound by everything which belongs to its 
character, and to the character of the present age, to put a stop to this inhu- 
man and disgraceful traffic. 

We are bound not only to maintain the general principles of public liberty, 
but 10 suppoit also those existing forms of government, which have so well 
secured its enjoyment, and so highly promoted the pubhc prosperity. It is 
now more than thirty yeai-s that these states have been united under the 
Fedend constitution, and whatever fortune may await. them hereafter, it is im 
possible that this period of their histoiy should not be regarded as distinguish- 



121 

ed by signal prosperity and success. They must be sanguine, indeed, who 
can hope for benelit from change. Whatever divisions of the pubhc judg- 
ment may have existed in relation to particular measures of the government, 
all must agree, one should think, in the opinion, that in its general coui-se it 
has been eminently productive of public happiness. Its most ardent friends 
could not well have hoped from it more than it has accomplished ;_ and those 
who disbelieved or doubted ought to feel less copcern about predictions, which 
the event has not verified, than pleasure in the good which has been obtained. 
Whoever shall hereafter write this part of our history, although he may see 
occasional eiTors or defects, will be able to record no great failure in the ends 
and objects of government. Still less will he be able to record any series of 
lawless and despotic acts, or any successful usui-pation. His page will contain 
no exhibition of provinces depopulated, of civil authority habitually trampled 
down by mihtary power, or of a community crushed by the burden of taxa- 
tion. He will speak, rather, of public liberty protected, and public happiness 
advanced; of increased revenue, and population augmented beyond all ex- 
ample ; of the growth of commerce, manufactures, and the arts ; and of that 
happy condition, in which the restraint and coercion of government are al- 
most invisible and imperceptible, and its influence felt 'only in the benefits 
which it confers. We can entertain no better wish for our countiy than that 
this government may be preseiTcd ; nor have a clearer duty than to maintain 
and support it in the full exercise of all its just constitutional powers. 

The cause of science and literature also imposes upon us an hnportant and 
delicate trust. The wealth and population of the countiy are now so far ad- 
vanced, as to authorize the expectation of a correct literature, and a weU formed 
taste, as well as respectable progi-ess in the abstmse sciences. The country has 
risen from a state of colonial dependency ; it has established an independent 
government, and is now in the undisturbed enjoyment of peace and pohtical 
security. The elements of knowledge are universally diftused, and the read- 
ing portion of the community large. Let us hope that the present may be 
an auspicious era of literature. Ifj ahnost on the day of their landing, our 
ancestors founded schools and endowed colleges, what obligations do not rest 
upon us, living imder circiunstances so much more favorable both for providing 
and for using the means of education ? Literature becomes free institutions. 
It is the gi-acefid ornament of civil liberty, and a happy restraint on the asperi- 
ties, which political controversy sometimes occasions. Just taste is not only an 
embellishment of society, but it rises almost to therankof the virtues, ancl 
diffuses positive good throughout the whole extent of its influence. _ There is 
a connexion between right feeling and right principles, and truth in taste is 
aUied with tmth in morality. With nothing in our past history to discoui-age 
us, and with something in our present condition and prospects to animate us, 
let us hope, that as it is our fortune to live in an age when we may behold a 
wonderful advancement of the country in all its other great interests, we may 
see also equal progress and success attend the cause of letters. 

Finally, let us not forget the religious character of our origin. Our fathers 
were brought hither by their high veneration for the Christian religion. They 
journeyed by the light, and labored in its hope. They sought to_ incorporate 
its principles with the elements of their society, and to diS'use its influence 
tlu-ough all theh institutions, civil, pohtical, or literary. Let us cherish these 
sentiments, and extend this influence still more widely ; in the full conviction, 
that that is the happiest society, which partakes in the highest degree of the 
mild and peaceable sphit of Chi-istianity. 



122 

The hours of this day arc rapidly flyiiig, and this occasion wiJl soon be pass- 
ed. Nt'ithef we nor our cliildren can expect to behold its return. They are 
m the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the all-creating po^ver of 
God, -who shall stand here, a hundred yeai's hence, to trace, tliroiigh us, their 
descent from the Pilgrims, and to suney, as we have now suiTcyed, the pro- 
gi-ess of then- country, during the lapse of a centuiy. We Avould anticipate 
then- concun-ence Avith us in our sentiments of deep regard for our common 
ancestor. We would anticipate and pai-take the pleasure with which they 
will then recount the steps of New England's advancement. On the morn- 
ing of that day, althougli it will not disturb us in our repose, the voice of ac- 
clamation and gi-atitude, commencing on the Rock of Plymouth, shall be 
ti-ansmitted thi'ough millions of the sons of the Pilgi-ims, till it lose itself in 
the murmurs of the Pacific seas. 

We would leave for the consideration of those who shall then occupy our 
places some proof that we hold the blessings transmitted from our fathers in 
just estimation ; some proof of our attachment to the cause of good govera- 
ment, and of civil and religious liberty ; some proof of a sincere and ardent 
desire to promote everythuig A^hich may enlarge the understandings and im- 
prove the hearts of men. And when from the long distance of an hundred 
years, they shall look back upon us, they shall know, at least, that we possess- 
ed affections, which running backward, and warming with gratitude for what 
our ancestors have done for our happiness, run forward also to our posterity, 
and meet them with cordial salutation, ere yet they have anived on the shore 
of being. 

Advance, then, ye future generations ! We would hail you, as you rise m 
your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste the bless- 
ings of existence, where we are passing, and soon shall have passed, our o^rti 
human duration. W^e bid you welcome to this pleasant land of the fathei-s. 
W^e bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the verdant fields of New 
England. We greet your accession to the great inheritance which we have 
enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of good government, and religious 
liberty. We welcome you to the treasm-es of science, and the delights of 
learning. We welcome you to the transcendent sweets of domestic life, to the 
happiness of kindred, and parents, and children. We welcome you to the 
immeasurable blessmgs of rational existence, the immortal hope of Chi-istianity 
and the hght of everlasting tmth ! 



THE BUNEEE HILL MONUMENT. 



DELIVEEED AT THE COEITER STONE OF BUNKEE HILL MON- 
UMENT, JUNE 17, 1825. 



This uncounted multitude before me and aroiind me proves the feeling 
which the cause has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing with 
sympathy and joy, and from the impulses of a common gratitude turned rev- 
erently to heaven in this spacious temj^le of the firmament, proclaim that the 
day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling have made a deep impres- 
sion on our hearts. 

If, indeed, there be any thing in local association fit to afiect the mind of 
man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agitate us here. We 
are among the sepulchi-es of om- fathers. We are on ground, distinguished by 
their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their blood. We are here, 
not to fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor so draw into notice an obscure 
and unknown spot. If our humble pui-pose had never been conceived, if we 
om-selves had never been bom, the l7th of June, 17 To, would have been a 
day on which all subsequent history would have poured its hght, and the emi- 
nence where we stand a point of attraction to the eyes of successive genera- 
tions. But we are Americans. We live in what may be called the early ago 
of this great continent ; and we know that our posterity, through all time, are 
here to enjoy and suffer the allotments of humanity. We see before us a 
probable train of great events ; we know that om* own fortunes have been hap- 
pily cast ; and it is natm-al, therefore, that we should be moved by the con- 
templation of occurrences which have guided our destiny before many of us 
were born, and settled the condition in which we should pass that portion of 
our existence which God allows to men on earth. 

We do not read even of the discovery of this continent, without feeling 
something of a personal interest in the event ; without being reminded how 
much it has affected our own fortunes and our existence. It would be still 
more unnatural for us, therefore, than for others, to contemplate with unaffec- 
ted minds that interesting, I may say that most touching and pathetic scene 
when the great discoverer of America stood on the deck of his shattered 
bark, the shades of night falling on the sea, yet no man sleeping ; tossed on 
the billows of an unknown ocean, yet the sti-onger billows of alternate hope 
and despair tossing his own troubled thoughts; extending fonvard his har- 
assed frame, straining westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last 
granted him a moment of rapture and ecstacy, in blessing his vision with the 
sight of the unknown world 



124 

Nearer to our times, more closely comiected with oiir fates, and therefore 
still more interesting to our feelings and affections, is the settlement of our 
OA\-n country by culuuists fi-om England. We cherish every memorial of these 
worthy ancestors ; we celebrate then- patience and fortitude ; we admire their 
daring enterprise ; we teach our childi-en to venerate their piety ; and we are 
justly proud of being descended from men who have set the world an exam- 
ple of founding civil institutions on the great and uuited principles of human 
freedom and human knowledge. To us, their children, the story of then- la- 
bors and sufferings can never be without its interest. We shall not stand un- 
moved on the shore of Pl}Tnouth, while the sea continues to wash it ; nor will 
our brethrea in another early and ancient Colony forget the place of its first 
establishment, till their river shall cease to flow by it. "No vigor of youth, no 
maturity of manhood, will lead the nation to forget the spots where its infan- 
cy was cradled and defended. ' 

But the great event in tne histoiy of the continent, which we are now mei 
here to commemorate, that prodigy of modem times, at once the wonder and 
the blessing of the world, is the American Revolution. ' In a day of extraor- 
dinaiy prosperity and happiness, of high national honor, distinction, and pow- 
er, wo are brought together, in this place, by our love of country, by our ad- 
miration of exalted character, by om- gratitude for signal services and patri- 
otic devotion. , 

The Society whose organ I am was formed for the purpose of rearing some 
honorable and durable monument to the memory of the early friends of Am- 
erican Independence. They have thought, that for this object no time could 
be more propitious than the present prosperous and peaceful period ; that no 
place could claim preference over this memorable spot ; and that no day could 
be more auspicious to the undertaking, than the anniversary of the battle 
which was here fought. The foundation of that monument we have now 
laid. With solemnities suited to the occasion, with prayers to Almighty God 
for his blessing, and in the midst of this cloud of witnesses, we have begun 
the work. We trust it will be prosecuted, and that, springing from a broad 
foundation, rising high in massive solidity and unadorned grandeur, it may 
remain as long as Heaven permits the work of man to last, a lit emblem, both 
of the events in memory of which it is raised, and of the gratitude of those 
who have reared it. 

We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely depo- 
sited in the universal remembi'ance of mankind. We know, that if we could 
cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it 
pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain but part of that which, in 
an age of knowledge, hath ali'cady been spread over the earth, and which his- 
tory charges itself with making known to all futm-e times. We know that 
no inscription on entablatures less broad than the earth itself can carry infor- 
mation of the events we commemorate where it had not already gone ; and 
that no structure, which shall not out]i\-e the duration of letters and knowl- 
edge among men, can prolong the memorial. But our object is, by this edi- 
fice, to show our own deep sense of the value and importance of the achieve- 
ments of f>ur ancestors; and, by presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, 
to keep alive similar sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the princi- 
ples of the llevolution. ' Human beings arc composed, not of reason only, but 
of imagination also, and sentiment; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied 
which is appropriated to the puii:)0sc of giving right direction to sentiments, 
and opening proper sprhigs of feeling in the heart. Let it not be supposed 



125 

that our object is to perpetuato national hostility, or even to clierisli a mere 
military spirit. It is higher, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the 
spirit of national independence, and wo wish that the light of peace may rest 
upon it for ever. ' We rear a memorial of our conviction of that unmeasured 
benefit which has been conferred on our own land, and of the happy inliuen- 
ces which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests 
of mankind. Yv'e come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must forever 
be dear to us and our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming 
time, si all turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistin- 
guished where the first great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish 
that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and importance of that event 
to every class and every age. We wish that infancy may learn the purpose 
of its erection from maternal lips, and that weary and withered age may be- 
hold it, and be solaced by the recollections which it suggests. Wo wish that 
labor may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish that 
in those days of disaster, which, as they come upon all nations, must be ex- 
pected to come upon us also, despondiag patriotism may turn its eyes hither- 
ward, and be assured that the foundations of our national power are still strong. 
We wish that this column, rising toward heaven among the pointed spires of 
so many temples dedicated to God, may conti'ibute also to produce, in all 
minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally, that 
the last object to the sight of him Avho leaves his native shore, and the first 
to gladden his who revisits it, may be something which shaU remind him of 
the hberty and the glory of his country. Let it rise ! let it rise, till it meet 
the sun in his coming ; let the earliest light of the morning gild it, and part- 
ing day linger and play on its summit. 

We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so important 
that they might crowd and distinguish centuries, are, in our times, compressed 
within the compass of a single hfe. When has it happened that history has 
had so much to record, in the same term of years, as since the iVth of June, 
1775 ? Our own Revolution, which, under other circumstances, might itself 
have been expected to occasion a war* of half a century, has been achieved ; 
twenty-four sovereign and independent States erected ; and a general govern- 
ment established over them, so safe, so wise, so free, so practical, that we might 
well wonder its establishment should have been accomplished so soon, were it 
not far greater the wonder that it should have been established at all. Two 
or three millions of people have been augmented to twelve, the great foi-ests 
of the West prostrated beneath the arm of successful industry, and the dwel- 
lers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi become the fellow-citizens 
and neighbors of those who cultivate the hills of New England. We have 
a commerce, that leaves no sea unexplored ; navies, which take no law from 
superior force; revenues, adequate to all the exigencies of government, almost 
without taxation ; and peace with all nations, founded on equal rights "and 
mutual respect. 

Europe, within the same period has been agitated by a mighty revolution, 
which, while it has been felt in the individual condition and happiness of al- 
most every man, has shaken to the centre her political fabric, and dashed 
against one another, thrones which had stood tranquil for ages. On this, our 
continent, our own example has been followed, and colonies hnxe spi-ung up 
to be nations. Unaccustomed sounds of liberty and free government have 
reached us from beyond the track of the sun ; and at this moment the domin- 
ion of European power in this continent, from the place where we stand to 
the south nole, is annihilated for ever. 



126 

In the mean time, both in Europe and America, such has been the general 
progress of knowledge, such the improvement in legislation, in commorce, in 
the arL<, in letters, and, above all, in liberal ideas and the general spirit of the 
age, that the -whole world seems changed. 

Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things which 
have happened since the day of the battle of Bunker Hill, we are but fifty 
yeai-s removed from it; and we now stand here to enjoy all the blessino-s of 
our own condition, and to look abroad on the brightened prospects of the 
world, while we still have among us some of those who were active agents in 
the scenes of 1775, and who are now here, from every quarter of New Eng- 
land, to visit once more, and under circumstances so affecting, I had almost 
said 80 overwhelming, this renowned theatre of their courage and patri- 
otism. 

Venerable men ! you have come down to us from a former generation. 
Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this 
joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty yeai-s ago, this very hour, 
with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoidder, in the strife for 
your country. Behold how altered ! The same heavens are indeed over your 
heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else how changed ! You 
hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke and 
flame rising from burning Charlestown. The gTOund strewed with the dead 
and the dying ; the impetuous charge ; the steady and successful repulse ; the 
loud call to repeated assault ; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated 
resistance ; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to 
whatever of terrov there may be in war and death ; — all these you have wit- 
nessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yon- 
der metropolis, its towere and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and 
children and countrymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable 
emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day vnth the sight 
of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a 
universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appropriate- 
ly l}ii\g at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are 
not means of annoyance to you, but your country's own means of distinction 
and defence. All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your 
country's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave. He has allowed you to 
behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils; and he has allowed 
us, your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and in the name of the pres- 
ent generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty- to 
thank you ! 

But, alas ! you are not all here ! Time and the sword have thinned your 
ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! our eyes 
seek for you in vain amid this broken band. You are gathered to your fath- 
ers, and Uve only to your country in her grateful remembrance and your own 
bright example. But let us not too much grieve, that you have met the com- 
mon fate of men. You hved at least long enough to know that your work 
had been nobly and successfully accom])lished. You lived to see your coun- 
try's independence estabhshed, and to sheathe your swords from war. On the 
light of Liberty you saw arise the Ijght of Peace, like 

"another morn. 
Risen on mid-noon." 

Mid Ijie sky on which you closed your eyes was cloudless. ^ 



127 

But all ! Him ! tlio fii-st great martyr in this groat cause ! Him ! the pre- 
matm-e victim of his own self-devoting heart ! Him! the head of om- civil 
councils, and the destined leader of our military bands, whom nothing brought 
hither but the imquenchable fire of his own spirit! Kim ! cut off by Provi- 
dence in the horn- of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom ; falling ere he 
saw the star of his country rise; pouring out his generous blood, like water, 
before he knew whether it would fertilize a laud of freedom or of bondage ' — 
how shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the utterance of thy name? 
Our poor work°may perish; but thine shall endure ! This monument majk 
moulder away ; the sohd ground it rests upon, may sink down to a level with 
the sea; but thy memory shall not fail! Wheresoever among men a heart 
shall be found that beats to the transport of patriotism and liberty, its aspha- 
tions shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit ! 

But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to confine our 
thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits who hazarded or lost then 
lives°on this consecrated spot. We have the happiness to rejoice here in the 
presence of a most worthy representation of the sm'vivors of the whole Revo- 
lutionary army. 

Veterans ! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. 1 ou bring 
■with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown, 
Camden, Bennington, and Saratoga. Veterans of half a century ! when 
in your youthful days you put everything at hazard in your country's cause, 
good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your fondest hopes did 
not stretch onward to an hour like this ! At a period to which you could not 
reasonably have expected to an-ive, at a moment of national prosperity such 
as you could never have foreseen, you are now met here to enjoy the feUow- 
ship of old soldiers, and to receive the overflowing of a universal grati- 
tude. 

But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform me that 
even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending 
feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as the persons of 
the living, present themselves before you. The scene overwhelms you, and I 
turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your declining years, 
and bless them ! And when you shall here have exchanged your embraces, 
when you shall once more have pressed the hands which have been so_ often 
extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory, 
then look abroad upon this lovely land which your young valor defended, and 
mark the happiness with which it is filled; yea, look abroad upon the whole 
earth, iind see what a name you have contributed to give to your country, and 
what a praise you have added to freedom, and then rejoice in the symjvithy 
and gratitude which beam upon your last days from the improved condition 
of mankind ! 

The occasion does not require of me any particular account of the battle 
of the 17th of June, 1775, nor any detailed narrative of the events which 
immediately preceded it. These are familiarly known to aU. In the pro- 
gress of the gi-eat and interesting controvei-sy, Massachusetts and the town of 
Boston had become early and marked objects of the displeasure of the British 
Parliament. This had been manifested in the act for altering the government 
of the Province, and in that for shutting up the port of Boston. Nothing 
sheds more honor on our early history, and nothing better shows how little 
the feelings and sentiments of the Colonies were known or regarded hi Eng- 
' land, than the impression which these measures everywhere produced m Amer- 



128 

ica. It had been anticipated, that while the Colonies in general would bo 
terrified by the severity of the punishment inflicted on Massachusetts, the oth- 
er seaports would be governed by a mere spirit of gain ; iind that, as Boston 
was now cut oft' from all commerce, the unexpected advantage which this 
blow on her was calculated to confer on other towns would be gieedily enjoy- 
ed. How miserably such reasonei-s deceived themselves ! How httle they 
knew of the depth, and the strength, and the intenseness of that feohng of resis- 
tance to illegal acts of power, which possessed the w hole American people ! 
fi very where the unworthy boon was rejected with scorn. The foitunate occa- 
sion was seized, everywhere, to show to the whole world that the Colonies 
were swayed by no local interest, no partial interest, no selfish interest. The 
the temptation to profit by the punishment of Boston was strongest to our 
neighbors of Salem. Yet Salem was precisely the place where this misera- 
ble proft'er w^as spiu-ned, in a tone of the most lofty self-respect and the most 
indignant patriotism. " We are deeply affected," said its inhabitants, " with 
the sense of our public calamities ; but the miseries that are now rapidly has- 
tening on our brethren in the capital of the Province greatly excite our com- 
miseration. By shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine that the coui'se 
of trade might be tiuned hither and to our benefit ; but we must be dead to 
every idea of justice, lost to all feelings of humanity, could we indulge a 
thought to seize on wealth and raise our fortunes on the ruin of om- sufiering 
neighbors." These noble sentiments were not confined to our immediate vi- 
cinity. In that day of general aflection and brotherhood, the bl8w given to 
Boston smote on every patriotic heart from one end of the country to the 
other. Virginia and the Carolinas, as well as Connecticut and Is'ew Hamp- 
shire, felt and proclaimed the cause to be their own. The Continental Con- 
gress, then holding its fii-st session in Philadelphia, expressed its sympathy fur 
the sufiering inhabitants of Boston, and addresses were received from all quar- 
• ters, assuring them that the cause Avas a common one, and should be met by 
common eftbrts and common sacrifices. The Congress of Massachusetts res- 
ponded to these assurances; and in an address to the Congiess at Philadel- 
phia, bearing the oflicial sig-nature, perhaps among the last, of the immorttil 
Warren, notwithstanding the severity of its sufiering and the magnitude of 
the dangers which threatened it, it was declared, that this Colony " is ready, 
at all times, to spend and be spent in the cause of America." 

But the hour drew nigh which was to put professions to the j^roof, and to 
determine whether the authors of these mutual pledges were ready to seal 
them in blood. The tidings of Lexington and Concord had no sooner spread, 
than it was uniA'ersally felt that the time was at last come for action. A spirit 
pervaded all ranks, not transient, not boisterous, but deep, solenm, deter- 
mined, ' 

" totamqiic infusa per artus 
Mens agitat luolciu, ct maguo se corporc miscet." 

War, on their own soil and at their own doors, was, indeed, a strange work to 
the yeomanry of New England ; but their consciences were cou\inced of its 
necessity, their country called them to it, and they did not withhold them- 
selves from the perilous trial. The ordinary occupations of hfe were aband- 
oned; the })luiigh was staid in the unfinished furrow; wives gave up their 
husbands, and mothers gave up their sons, to the battles of a civil war. Death 
might come, in lionor, on the field; it might come, in dir-gTace, on the scaf- 
fold. For either and for both they were prepared. The sentiment of Quincy 



129 

was full in their hearts. " Blandisliments," said that distinguislied son of 
genius and patriotism, " will not foscinato us, nor will threats of a halter in- 
timidate ; for, under God, we are determined that, wheresoever, whensoever, or 
howsoever we shall be called to make our exit, we will die free men." 

The l7th of June saw the four New England Colonies standing here, side 
by side, to triumph or to fall together; and there was with them from that 
moment to the end of the war, what I hope will remain with them for ever, 
one cause, one country, one heart. 

The battle of Bunker Hill was attended with the most important effects 
beyond its immediate results as a military engagement. It created at once a 
state of open, public war. There could now be no longer a question of pro- 
ceeding against individuals, as guilty of ti'eason or rebellion. That fearful 
ci-isis was past. The appeal lay to the sword, and the only question was, 
whether the spirit and the resources of the people would hold out, till the ob- 
ject should be accomplished. Nor were its general consequences confined to 
our own country. The previous j)roceedings of the Colonies, theii' appeals, 
resolutions, and addresses, had made their cause kno^^^l in Em-ope. Without 
boasting, we may say, that in no age or country has the pubhc cause been 
maintained with more force of argument, more power of iUusti-ation, or more 
of that persuasion which excited feeling and elevated principle can alone bes- 
tow, than the Revolutionary state papers exhibit. These papers will for ever 
deserve to be studied, not only for the spirit which they breathe, but for the 
ability with which they were written. 

To this able vindication of their cause, the Colonies had now added a 
pi'actical and severe proof of their own true devotion to it, and given evidence 
also of the power which they could bring to its support. All now saw, that 
if America fell, she would not fall without a stmggle. Men felt sympathy 
and regard, as well as sm-prise, when they beheld these infant states, remote, 
unknown, unaided, encoimter the power of England, and in the first conside- 
rable battle, leave more of their enemies dead on the field, in propoilion to 
the number of combatants, than had been recently known to fall in the wai-s 
of Europe. 

Information of these events, circulating thi-oughout the world, at length 
reached the ears of one who now hears me. He has not forgotton the emo- 
tion which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the name of Warren, excited in his 
youthfiU breast. 

Sir, we are assembled to commemorate the establishment of great public 
principles of hberty, and to do honor to the distinguished dead. The occa- 
sion is too severe for eulogy of the living. But, Sh, your interesting relation 
to this country, the peculiar circumstances which surroimd you and surround 
us, call on me to express the happiness which we derive from yom* presence 
and aid in this solemn commemoration. 

Fortunate, fortunate man ! with what measure of devotion will you not 
thank God for the circumstances of your exti-aordinary life? You are con- 
nected with both hemispheres and with two generations. Heaven saw fit to 
ordain, that the electric spark of liberty should be conducted, through you, 
from the New World to the Old ; and we, who are now here to porfoi-m this 
duty of patriotism, have all of us long ago received it in chaige from our 
fathers to cherish your name and your virtues. You will account it an in- 
stance of your good fortune, Sir, that you crossed the seas to visit us at a time 
which enables you to be present at this solemnity. You now behold the field, 
the renown of which reached tou in the heart of France, and caused a thrill 



130 

in your ardent bosora. You see the lines of the little redoubt thrown up by 
the incredible diligence of Prescott; defended, to the last extremity, by his 
hon-hcarted valor ; and within which the comer-stone of our monument has 
now taken its position. You see where Wairen fell, and where Parker, Gard- 
ner, McCleaiy, Moore, and other early patriots, fell with him. Those who 
survived that day, and whose lives have been prelonged to the present hour, 
are now around you. Some of them you have known in the trying scenes 
of the war. Behold ! they now stretch forth their feeble amis to embrace you. 
Behold ! they raise then- trembling voices to invoke the blessing of God on 
you and yours for ever. 

Sir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of this structure. You 
have heard us rehearse, with om' feeble commendation, the names of departed 
patriots. Monuments and eulogy belong to the dead. We give them this 
day to Warren and his associates. On other occasions they have been given 
to your more immediate companions in arms, to Washington, to Greene, to 
Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln. We have become reluctant to gi-ant these, 
our highest and last honors, further. We would gladly hold them yet back 
from the little remnant of that immortal band. Serus in coeliim redeas. II- 
lustiious as are your merits, yet far, 0, very far distant be the day, when any 
inscription shall bear your name, or any tongue pronounce its eulogy ! 

The leading reflection to which this occasion seems to invite us, respects the 
great changes which have happened in the fifty years since the battle of Bun- 
ker Hill was fought. And it peculiarly marks the character of the present 
age, that, in looking at these changes, and in estimating their effect on our 
condition, we are obliged to consider, not what has been done in oiu* own 
eountiy only, but in othere also. In these interesting times, while nations are 
making separate and indi\'idual advances in impi'ovement, they make, too, a 
ioramon progress ; like vessels on a common tide, propelled by the gales at 
vtiiferent rates, according to theu- several structure and management, but all 
moved fonvard by one mighty current, strong enough to bear onward what- 
ever does not sink beneath it. 

A chief distinction of the present day is a community of opinions and 
knowledge amongst men in difierent nations, existing in a degree heretofore 
unknown. KJaowledge has, in our time, triumphed, and is triumphing, over 
distance, over difl'erence of languages, over diversity of habits, o^•er prejudice, 
and over bigotry. "The civilized and Christian world is fast learning the gTcat 
lesson, that difference of nation does not imply necessary hostility, and that all 
contact need not be war. The whole world is becoming a common field for 
intellect to act in. Enei-gy of mind, genius, power, wheresoever it exists may 
speak out in any tongue, and the world will hear it. A gi-eat choi'd of senti- 
ment and feeling nms through two continents, and vibrates ovej' both. Every 
breeze wafts intelligence from couutry to country ; e^•ery wave rolls it; all give 
it forth, and all in turn receive it. There is a vast commerce of ideas ; there 
ire marts and exchanges for intellectual discoveries, and a wonderful fellow- 
ship of those individual intelligences which make up the mind and opinion 
of the age. Mind is the great lever of all things; human thought is the 
process by which human ends ai-e ultimately answered; and the diffusion of 
knowledge, so astonishing in the last half century, has rendered innumerable 
minds, A'ai-iously gifted by nature, competent to be the competitors or fellow- 
workers on the tlieatre of intellectual operation. 

From these causes iinportant improvements have taken place in the pei-so- 
nal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, mankind ai-e not only bet- 



131 

ter fed and better clothed, but tliey are :iblc also to e«joy more leisure ; they 
possess more refinement and more self-respect. A superior tone of education, 
manuei-s, and habits prevails. This remark, most true in its appUcation to our 
own country, is also partly true Avheu applied elsewhere. It is proved by the 
vastly augmented consumption of those articles of manufacture and' of com- 
merce which cont)-ibute to the comforts and the decencies of hfe; an augmen- 
tiition which has for outrun the progress of popidation. And while the un- 
exampled and almost incredible use of machinery would seem to supply the 
place of labor, labor still finds its occupation and its reward ; so wibciy has 
Providence adjusted men's wants and desires to theh condition and their 
capacity. 

Any adequate survey, however, of the progres made during the last half- 
century in the polite and the mechanic arts, in machinery and manufactures, 
in commerce and agriculture, in lettere and in science, would require volumes. 
I must abstain wholly from these subjects, and tm-n for a moment to the con- 
templation of w^hat has been done on the great question of pohtics and gov- 
ernment. This is the master topic of the age ; and during the whole fifty 
years it has intensely occupied the thoughts of men. The nature of ci\il 
government, its ends and uses, have been canvassed and mvestigated ; ancient 
opinions attacked and defended ; new ideas recommended and resisted, by 
whatever power the mind of man coidd bring to the controversy. From the 
closet ancl the public halls the debate has been transferred to the field ; and 
the world has been shaken by wai-s of imexampled magnitude, and the great- 
est variety of fortune. A day of peace has at length succeeded ; and now 
that the strife has subsided, ancl the smoke cleared away, we may begin to see 
what has actually been done, permanently changing the state and condition 
of human society. And, without dwelling on particular circumstances, it is 
most apparent, that, from the before-mentioned causes of augmented knowledge 
and improved individual condition, a real, substantial, and important change 
has taken place, and is taking place, highly favorable, on the whole, to human 
liberty and human happiness. 

The great wheel of political revolution began to move in America. Here 
its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred to the other conti- 
nent, from unfortimate but natural causes, it received an irregular and violent 
impulse ; it whirled along with a fearful celerity ; till at length, like the char- 
iot-wheels in the races of antiqiuty, it took fire from the rapidity of its own 
motion, and blazed onward, spreading conflagration and terror around. 

We learn from the resuLt of this experiment, how fortunate w"as our own 
condition, and how admhably the character of om- people was calculated for 
setting the great example of popular governments. The possession of power 
did not turn the heads of the American people, for they had long been in 
the habit of exercising a gi-eat degree of self-control. Although the para- 
mount authority of the parent state existed over them, yet a large field of le- 
gislation had always been open to om* Colonial assembUes. They were ac- 
customed to representative bodies and the fonns of free government; they 
undei"stood the doctrine of the di\-ision of power among difterent branches, 
and the necessity of checks on each. The character of our countrymen, 
moreover, was sober, moral and rehgious; and there was little in the change 
to shock their feelings of justice and humanity, or even to disturb an honest 
prejudice. We had no domestic thi'one to overturn, no privileged orders to 
cast down, no violent changes of property to encounter. In the American 
Revolution, no man sought or wished for more than to defend and enjoy his 



132 

own. None Loped for plunder or for spoil. Rapacity ^Yas unknown to it ; 
the axe was not among tlie instruments of its accomplisLment ; and we all 
know that it could not have lived a single day under any well-founded impu- 
tation of ^possessing a tendency adverse to the Christian religion. 

It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less auspicious, political 
revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, have tenninated dift"erently. 
It is, indeed, a great achievement; it is the master-work of the world, to es- 
tablish governments entirely popular on lasting foundations ; nor is it easy, in- 
deed, to introduce the popidar principle at all into governments to which it 
has been altogether a stranger. It cannot be doubted, however, that Europe 
has come out of the contest, in which she has been so long engaged, with 
greatly superior knowledge, and, in many respects, in a highly improved con- 
dition. Whatever benelit has been acquired, is likely to be retained, for it 
consists mainly in the acquisition of more enhghtened ideas. And although 
kino-doms and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold them, in 
the same manner they were obtained ; although ordinary and vulgar power 
may, in human affaii-s, be lost as it has been won ; yet it is the glorious pre- 
rogative of the empire of knowledge, that what it gains it never loses. On 
the contraiy, it increases by the multiple of its own power ; all its ends be- 
come means; all its attainments, helps to new conquests. Its w^hole abundant 
har\est is but so much seed wheat, and nothing has limited, and nothing can 
limit, the amomit of ultimate product. 

Under the influence of this rapidly increasing knowledge, the people have 
begim, in all forms of government, to think, and to reason, on affairs of state. 
Reo-arding government as an institution for the public good, they demand a 
knowledge of its opei-ations, and a participation in its exercise. A call for the 
representative system, wherever it is not enjoyed, and Avhere there is aheady 
intelligence enough to estimate its value, is perseveringly made. Where men 
may speak out, they demand it ; where the bayonet is at their throats, they 
pray for it. 

When Louis the Fourteenth said, " I am the state," he expressed the essence 
of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules of that system, the people 
are disconnected from the state; they are its subjects; it is their lord. These 
ideas, founded in the love of power, and long supported by the excess and the 
abuse of it, are yielding, in our age, to other opinions; and the civihzed world 
seems at last to be proceeding to the con^■iction of that fundamental and man- 
ifest truth, that the powers of government are but a tmst, and that they can- 
not be lawfully exercised but for the good of the community. As knowledge 
is more and more extended, this conNiction becomes more and more general. 
Knowledge, in truth, is the gi-eat sun in the finnament. Life and power are 
scattered with all its beams. The prayer of the Gi-ecian champion, when en- 
veloped in unnatural clouds and darkness, is the appropriate political supplica- 
tion for the people of every countiy not yet blessed with free institutions : — 

" Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore, 
Give me to see, — and Ajax asks no more." 

Wo may hope that the growing influence of enlightened sentiment will 
promote the permanent peace of the world . Wars to maintain family alliances, 
to uphold or to cast do^vn dynasties, and to regulate successions to thrones, 
which have occupied so much room in the history of modem times, if not less 
hkely to happen at all, will be less likely to become general, and involve many 



133 

nations, as tlie great principle shall be more and more establislicd, that the in- 
terest of the world is peace, and its first great Btatute, that every nation pos- 
sesses the power of estabUshing a government for itself. But public opinion 
has attained also an influence over government which do not admit the popu- 
lar principle into theh organization. A necessary respect for the judgment 
of the world, operates, in some measure, as a control over the most unlimited 
forms of authority. It is owing, perhaps, to this truth, that the interesting 
struggle of the Greeks has been suflered to go on so long, without a direct in- 
terference, either to wrest that country from its present mastere, or to execute 
the system of pacification by force, and, with united strength, lay the neck of 
Chi-istian and civilized Greek at the foot of the barbarian Turk. Let us thank 
God that we live in an ag<3 when something has uifluence besides the bayonet, 
and when the sternest authority does not Acnture to encounter the scorching 
power of public reproach. Any attempt of the kind I have meutioned should 
be met by one universal burst of indignation ; the air of the civilized world 
ought to be made too warm to be comfortably breathed by any one who 
would hazard it. 

It is, indeed, a touching reflection, that, while, in the fulness of our coun- 
try's happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we look for instruction 
in om- undertaking to a country which is now in fearful contest, not for works 
of art or memorials of glory, but for her own existence. Let her be assured, 
that she is not forgotten in the world ; that her efibrts are applauded, and that 
constant prayers ascend for her success. And let us cherish a confident hope 
for her final triumph. If the true spark of religious and civil liberty be kin- 
dled, it will burn. Human agency cannot extinguish it. Like the earth's 
central fire, it may be smothered for a time ; the ocean may ovenvheim it ; 
mountains may press it down; but its inherent and unconquerable force will 
heave both the ocean and the land, and at some time or other, in some place 
or other, the volcano will break out and flame up to heaven. 

Among the great events of the half-century, we must reckon, certainly, the 
revolution of South America; and we are not likely to overrate the import- 
ance of that revolution, either to the people of the country itself or to the 
rest of the world. The late Spanish colonies, now independent states, under 
circumstances less favorable, doubtless, than attended our own revolution, have 
yet successfully commenced their national existence. They have accomphshed 
the great object of estabhshing their independence ; they are known and ac- 
knowledged in the world ; and although in regard to their systems of govern- 
ment, their sentiments on religious toleration, and their provisions for public 
instruction, they may yet have much to learn, it must be admitted that they 
ha^-e i-isen to the condition of settled and established states more i-apidly than 
could have been reasonably anticipated. They already furnish an exhilai-ating 
example of the difference between free governments, and despotic misrule. 
Their commerce, at this moment, creates a new acti\ it}- in all the great marts 
of the world. They show themselves able, by an exchange of commodities, 
to bear a useful part in the intercourse of nations. 

A new spirit of enterprise and industry begins to prevail ; all the great in- 
terests of society receive a salutary impulse ; and the progress of information 
not only testifies to an improved condition, but itself constitutes the highest 
and most essential improvement. 

When the battle of Bunker Hill was fought^ the existence of South Amer- 
ica was scarcely felt in the civilized world. The thirteen little Colonies of 
North America habitually called themselves ihe " Continent." Borne down 



134 

by colonial subjugation, monopoly, and bigotry, these vast regions of tbe 
South were hardly visible above the horizon. But in our day there has been, 
as it \\cre, a new creation. The southern hemisphere emerges from the sea. 
Its lofty mountains begin to lift themselves into the light of heaven ; its broad 
and fertile plains stretch out, in beauty, to the eye of civilized man, and at 
the mighty bidding of the voice of poUtical liberty, the waters of darkness 
retire. 

And, now, let us indulge an honest exultation in the conviction of the 
benefit which the example of our country has produced, and is likely to pro- 
duce, on human freedom and human happiness. Let us endeavar to compre- 
hend in all its magnitude, and to feel in all its importance, the part assigned 
to us m the great drama of human affahs. We are placed at the head of 
the system of representative and popular governments. Thus far our exam- 
ple shows that such governments ai-e compatible, not only with respectability 
and power, but with repose, with peace, witb secmity of pei-sonal rights, with 
good laws, and a just administration. 

We are not propagandists. Wherever other systems are preferred, either 
as being thought better in themselves, or as better suited to existing condition, 
we leave the preference to be enjoyed. Our history hitherto proves, however, 
that the popular form is practicable, and that with wisdom and knowledge 
men may govern themselves; and the duty incumbent on iis is, to preserve 
the consistency of this cheering example, and take care that nothing may 
weaken its authority with the world. If, in our case, the representative' sys- 
tem ultimately fail, popular governments must be pronounced impossible. No 
combination of circumstances more favorable to the experiment can ever be 
expected to occur. The last hopes of mankind, therefore, rest with us; and 
if it should be proclaimed, that our example had become an argument 
against the experiment, the knell of popular liberty would be soimded thi-ough- 
out the earth. 

These are excitements to duty; but they are not suggestions of doubt. 
Our history and our condition, all that is gone before us, and all that sur- 
rounds lis, authorize the belief, that popular governments, though subject to 
occasional variations, in form perhaps not always for the better, may yet, in 
their general character, be as durable and peraianent as othei- systems.^ We 
know, indeed, that in om- country any other is impossible. The principle 
of free governments adheres to the American soil. It is bedded iii it, immo- 
vable as its mountains. 

And let the sacred obligations which have devolved on this generation, and 
on us, sink deep into our hearts. Those who estabhshed our liberty and our 
government are daily dropping from among us. The great tnist now des- 
cends to new hands." Let us apply ourselves to that which is presented to us, 
as our appropriate object. We can win no lam-els in a war for independence. 
Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor are there places for 
us by the side of Solon, and Alfred, and other founders of states. Our fath- 
ers have filled them. But there remains to us a great duty of defence and 
presenation; and there is opened tons, also, a noble pursuit, to which the 
spiiit of the times strongly inntcs us. Our proper business is improvement. 
Let our age be the ago of improvement. In a day of peace, let us advance 
the arts of peace and the works of peace. Let us develope the resources of 
our land, call forth its powers, build up its institutions, promote all its L:"-at 
interests, and see whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perfoiin 
something worthy to be remeiifbered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of union 



135 

and harmony. In pm-suing the great objects which onr condition points out 
to us, let us act under a settled conviction, and an habitual feeling, that these 
twenty-four States are one country. Let our conceptions bo enlarged to the 
circle of our duties. Let us extend our ideas over the whole of the vast field 
in which we are called to act. Let our object be, our country, our "whole 
COUNTRY, AND NOTHING BUT OUR COUNTRY. And, by the blcssing of God, 
may that country itself become a vast and splendid monument, not of op- 
pi-es-siou and terror, but of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which the 
world may gaze with admhation for ever ! 



MR. HAYNE'S SPEECH. 



DEBATE IN THE SENATE ON MR. FOOT'S RESOLUTION, THURSDAY 

JANUARY 21, 1830. 



Mr. Foot's resolution being under consideration, — 

[When Ml-. Webstkr concluded liis first epeecli on Wednesday, the 20th, 
Mr. Benton followed with some remarks in reply to Mr. W., but as they 
were principally embodied In his more extended speech some days after, 
those remarks are omitted. On the day foUowmg, Mr. Hayne took the floor 
in'the following rejoinder to Mr. Webster.] 

Mr. HAYNE said, when he took occasion, two days ago, to throw out 
some ideas with respect to tho policy of the government, in relation to the 
public lands, nothing certainly could have been further from his thoughts, 
than that he should have been compelled again to throw himself upon tho 
indulgence of the Senate. Little did I expect, said Mr. H., to be called upon 
to meet such an argument as was yesterday urged by the gentleman from 
Massachusetts, (Mr. Webster.) Sir, I questioned no man's opinions; I im- 
peached no man's motives ; I charged no party, or state, or section of countiy 
with hostility to any other, but ventm-ed, as I thought, in a becoming spirit, 
to put forth my own sentiments in relation to a great national question of 
pubhc policy. Such was my course. The gentlemen from Missouri, (Mr. 
Benton,) it is true, had charged upon the Eastern States an early and con- 
tinued hostility towards the west, and referred to a number of historical facts 
and documents in support of that charge. Now, sir, how have these differ- 
ent argument been met ? The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts, after 
deUberating a whole night upon his com'se, comes into this chamber to vin- 
dicate New England ; and instead of making up his issue with the gentleman 
from Missom-i, on the charges which he had preferred, chooses to consifJer me 
as the author of those charges, and losing sight entirely of that i^v^ntlemen, 
selects me as his adversary, and pours out aU the vials of l^is imghty wi-ath 
upon my devoted head. Nor is ho willing to stop there. He goes on to 
assail the institutions and policy of the south, and calls in question the prin- 
ciples and conduct of the state which I have the honor to represent. When 
I find a gentlemen of mature age and experience, _oi acknowledged talents 
and profound sagacitj^, pursuing a course like this, declining the contest 
offered from the west, and making war upon tZie unoffending south, I must 
beheve, I am bound to believe, he has some object in view which he has not 
ventured to disclose. Mr. President, why is this? Has the gentleman dis- 
covered in former controversies with the gentleman from Missouri,^ that he is 
overmatched by that senator? And does he hope for an easy -victory over 



138 

a more feeble adversary ? Has the gentleman's distempered fancy been dis- 
turbed by gloomy forebodings of "new alliances to be formed," at which he 
hinted ? Has the ghost of the murdered Coalition come back, like the 
ghost of Baiiquo, to "sear the eyeballs of the gentleman,"' and will it not 
doM-n at his bidding? Are dark visions of broken hopes, and honors lost 
forever, still floating before his heated imagination ? Sir, if it be his object to 
thurst me between the gentleman from Missouri and himself, in order to 
rescue the east from the contest it has provoked with the west, he shall not 
be gi-atified. Sir, I will not be dragged mto the defence of my friend -from 
Missouri. The south shall not be forced into a conflict not its own. The 
gentlemaa from Missouri is able to fight his own battles. The gallent west 
needs no aid from the south to repel any attack which may be made on them 
from any quarter. Let the gentlemen from Massachusetts controvert the 
fact and arguments of the gentleman from Missouri, if he can — and if 
he win the victory, let him wear the honors; I shall not deprive him of his 
laurels. 

The gentleman from Massachusetts, in reply to my remarks on the in- 
jurious operations of our land system on the prosperity of the west, pro- 
nounced an extravagant eulogium on the paternal care which the government 
had extended towards the west, to which he attributed all that was great and 
excellent in the present condition of the new states. The language ot the 
gentleman on this topic fell upon my ears like the almost forgotton tones of 
the tory leaders of the British Parliament, at the commencement of the 
American revolution. They, too, discovered that the colonies had grown 
great under the fostering care of the mother country ; and I must confess, 
while listening to the gentleman, I thought the appropriate reply to his argu- 
ment was to be found in the remark of a celebrated orator, made on that 
occasion : " They have grown great in spite of your protection." 

The gentleman, in commenting on the policy of the government in rela- 
tion to the new states, has introduced to our notice a certain Nalhan Dane, 
of Massachusett.s, to whom he attributes the celebrated ordinance of '87, by 
which he tells us, " slavery was forever excluded from the new states north of 
the Ohio." After eulogizing the wisdom of this provision in terms of the 
most extravagant praise, he breaks forth in admiration of the gi-eatness of 
Nathan Dane — and great indeed he must be, if it be true, as stated by the 
senator from Massachuseits, that " he was greater than Solon and Lycurgus, 
Minos, Numa Pompilius, and all the legislators and philosophers of the worid," 
ancient and modern. Sii-, to such high authority it is certainly my duty, in 
a becoming spirit of humilit}^, to submit. And yet, the gentleman will par- 
don me, Avlicn I say, that it is a little unfortunate for the fame of this great 
legislator, that the gentleman from Missouri sho'iild ha^'e proved that he was 
not tlie author of the ordinance of '87, on which the senator from Massachu- 
setts has reared so glorious a monument to his name. Sir, I doubt not the 
senator will feel sorao compassion for our ignorance, when I tell him, that so 
little are we acquaintel -nith the modern great men of New England, that 
until ho infoiTOcd us yes^Prday that we possessed a Solon and a Lyciugus in 
the person of Nathan Dane, ho was only known to the south as a member 
of a celebrated assembly, called and known by the name of the " Hartford 
Convention.'! In the proceedings of that assembly, which I hold in my hand, 
(at p. 19,) will be found, in a few lines, the history of Nathan Dane; and a little 
farther on, there is conclusive evidence of that ardent devotion to the interest 
of the new states, which it seems, has given him a just claim to the ti'tle of 



139 

« Father of the West." By the 2d resohition of the " Hartford Convention," 
it is declared, " that it is expedient to attempt to make provision for restraining 
Congress in the exercise of an nnlimited power to moke new states, and ad- 
mitting them into the Union." So much for Nathan Dane, of Beverly, 
Massachusetts. 

In commenting upon my views in relation to the pubhc lands, the gentle- 
man insists, that it being one of the conditions of the grants thai these lands 
should be applied to " the common benefit of all the spates, they must always 
remain a fund for revenue;''^ and adds, " they must be treated as so much 
treasure:' Sir, the gentleman could hardly find language strong enough to 
convey his disapprobation of the policy -which I ha\'e ventured to recom- 
mend' to the favorable consideration of the country. And what, sir, was that 
policy, and what is the difference between that gentleman and myself on that 
subject ? I threw out the idea that the public lands ought not to be reserved 
forever, as " a great fund for revenue ;" that they ought not to be " treated as a 
great treasure ;' but that the course of our policy should rather be directed 
towards the creation of new states, and building up great and flourishing 
communities. 

Now, sh, will it be belie\^d, by those who now hear me, — and who 
listened to the gentlemen's denunciation of my doctrines yesterday, — that 
A book then lay open before him — nay, that he held it in his hand, and 
read from it certain passages of his own speech, delivered to the House of 
Representatives in 1825, in which speech he himself contended for the very 
doctrines I had advocated, and almost in the same terms ? Here is the 
speech of the Hon. Daniel Webster, contained in the first volume of Gales 
and Seaton's Register of Debates (p. 251,) delivered in the House of Rep- 
resentatives on the 18th of January, 1825, in a debate on the Cumberland 
road — the very debate from which the senator read yesterday. I shall read 
from the celebrated speech two passages, from which it will appear that both 
as to the past and \hQ future policy of the government in relation to the pub- 
lic lands, the gentleman from Massachusetts maintained, in 1325, substantially 
the same opinions which I have advanced, but which he now so strongly 
reprobates. I said, sir, that the system of credit sales by which the west had 
been kept constantly in debt to the United States, and by which their wealth 
was di-ained ofi" to be expended elsewhere, had operated injuriously on their 
prosperity. On this point the gentleman from Massachusetts, in January, 
1825, expressed himself thus: « There could be no doubt,^ if gentlemen looked 
at the money received into the traasury from the sale of the public lands to 
the west, and then looked to the whole amount expended by government, 
(even including the whole amount of what was laid out for the army,) the 
latter must be allowed to be very inconsiderable, an<,l there must be a con- 
stant drain of money from the ivest to pay for the public landa. It might 
indeed be said that this was no more than the refiuence of capital which had 
previously gone over the mountains. Be it so. Still its practical effect ^vas 
to produce inconvenience, if not distress, by absorbing the money of the 
people." 

I contend that the public lands ought not to bo treated merely as " a 
fund for revenue;" tliat they ought not to be hoarded "as a great treasure." 
On this point the senator expressed himself thus: " Government, he believed, 
had received eighteen or twenty millions of dollai's from the public lands, 
and it was with the gi-eatest satisfaction he adverted to thcchauge which liad 
been introduced in Uie mode of paying for them ; yet he could never think 



140 

* 

the national domain was to he regarded as a7iy great source of revenue. 
The great object of the government, in respect of these lands, Avas not so 
much the money derived from their sale, as it was the getting them settled. 
What he meant to say was, he did not think they ought to hug that domain 
AS A GREAx TREASURE, which tvas to cnrick the Exchequer." 

Now, Mr. President, it will be seen that the very doctrines which the 
gentleman so indignantly abandons were urged by him in 1825 ; and if I had 
actually borrowed my sentiments from those which he then avowed, I could 
not have followed more closely in his footsteps. Sir, it is only since the 
gentleman quoted this book, yesterday, that my attention has been turned to 
the sentiments he expressed in 1825 ; and if I had remembered them, I might 
possibly have been deterred from uttering sentiments here, Avhich, it might 
well be supposed, I had borrowed from that gentleman. 

In 1825, the gentleman told the world that the public lands "ought not 
to be treated as a treasure." He now tells us that " they must be treated as 
so much treasure." What the deliberate opinion of the gentleman on this 
subject may be, belongs not to me to determine; but I do not think he can, 
with the shadow of justice or propriety, impugn my sentiments, while his 
own recorded opinions are identical with m^ oAvn. When the gentleman 
refers to the conditions of the grants under which the United States have 
acquired these lauds, and insists that, as they are declared to be " for the 
common benefit °of all the states," they can only be treated as so much 
treasure, I think he has ajjplied a rule of construction too narrow for the 
case. If in the deeds of cession it has been declared that the grants were 
intended for " the common benefit of all the states," it is clear, from other pro- 
visions, that they were not intended merely as so much property; for it is 
expressly declared, that the object of the gi-ants is the erection of new states; 
and the United States, in accepting this trust, bmd themselves to facilitate 
the fouudation of these states, to be admitted into the Union with all the 
rights and privileges of the original states. This, sir, was the great end to 
■which all parties looked, and it is by the fulfilment of this high trust that 
" the common benefit of all the states" is to be best promoted. Sir, let me 
tell the gentleman, that in the part of the countiy in which I live, w-e do not 
measure political benefits by the money standard. We consider as more 
\'aluable than gold, liberty, principle, and justice. But, sir, if we are bound 
to act on the narrow principles contended for by the gentleman, I am wholly 
at a loss to conceive how he can reconcile his principles with his own practice. 
The lands are, it seems, to be treated " as so much treasure," and must be 
applied to the " common benefit of all the states." Now, if this be so, whence 
does he derive the right to appropriate them for partial and local objects ? 
How can the gentleman consent to vote away immense bodies of these lands, 
for canals in Indiana and Illinois, to the Louisville and Portland Canal, to 
Kcnyon College in Ohio, to Schools for the Deaf and Dumb, and other 
objects of a similar description ? If grants of this character can fairly be 
considered as made " for the common benefit of all the states," it can only 
be, because all the states are interested in the A\elfare of each — a principle 
which, carried to the full extent, destroys all distinction between local and 
national objects, and is certainly broad enough to embrace the principles for 
which I have ventured to contend. Sir, the true diftbrence between us I 
take to be this : the gentleman wishes to treat the public lands as a great 
treasure, just as so much money in the treasury, to be applied to all objects, 
constitutional and unconstitutional, to which the public money is constantly 



141 

applied. I consider it as a sacred trust whicli we ought to fulfil, on tlic prin- 
ciples for which I have contended. 

The senator from Massachusetts has thought proper to present, in strong 
contrast, the friendly feelings of the east towards the west, with sentiments 
of an opposite character displayed by the south in relation to appropriatioua 
for internal improvements. Now, sir, let it be recollected that the south have 
made no professions; I have certainly made none in then- behalf, of re- 
o-ard for the west. It has been reserved for the gentleman from Massachu- 
setts, Avhile he vaunts over his own personal devotion to western interests, to 
claim for the entire section of country to which he belongs an ardent friend- 
ship for the west, as manifested by their support of the system of internal 
improvement, while he casts in our teeth the reproach that the south has 
manifested hostility to western mterests in opposing appropriations for such 
objects. That gentleman, at the same time, acknowledged that the south 
entertains cojistitutional scruples on this subject. Are we then, sir, to 
undei-stand that the gentleman considers it a just subject of reproach that we 
respect our oaths, by which we are bound "to preserve, protect, and 
defend the constitution of the United States ? " Would the gentleman have 
us manifest our love to the west by trampling under foot om- constitutional 
scruples? Does he not perceive, if the south is to he reproached with un- 
kindness to the west, in voting against appropriations whichthe gentleman 
admits they could not vote for without doing violence to their constitutional 
opinions, that he exposes himself to the question, whether, if he was in our 
situation, he could vote for these appropriations, regardless of his scruples? 
No, sir, I will not do the' gentleman so great injustice. He has fallen into 
this error from not having duly weighed the force and effect of the reproach 
which he was endeavoring to cast upon the south. In relation to the other 
point, the friendship manifested by New England towards the west, in their 
support of the system of internal improvement, the gentleman will pardon 
me for saying, that I think he is equally unfortunate in havmg introduced 
that topic. As that gentleman has forced it upon us, however, I cannot 
suffer it to pass unnoticed. When the gentleman tells us that the appropria- 
tions for internal improvement in the west would, in almost eveiy instance, 
have failed but for New England votes, he has forgotten to tell us the when, 
the hoio, and the wherefore this new-born zeal for the west sprung up in the 
bosom of New England. If we look back only a few years, we will find in 
both houses of Congress a uniform and steady opposition on the part of the 
members from the Eastern States, generally, to all the appropriations of this 
character. At the time I became a member of this house, and for some 
time afterwards, a decided majority of the New England senatore were 
opposed to the very measures which the senator from Massachusetts tells us 
they now cordially support. Sir, the Journals are before me, and an ex- 
amination of them will satisfy every gentleman of that fact. 

It must be well known to every one whose experience dates back as far as 
1825, that up to a certain period. New England was generally opposed to 
appropriations for internal improvements in the west. The gentleman from 
Massachusetts may be himself an exception, but if he went for the system 
before 1825, it is certain that his colleagues did not go with him. 

In the session of 1824 and '25, however, (a memorable era in the history 
of this country,) a wonderful change took place in New England, in relation 
to western interests. Sir, an extraoixlinary union of sympathies and of in- 
terests w:is then effected, which brought the oast and the west into close 



142 

alliance. The book from -vvhicL I have before read contaias the fii-st public 
annuiK'iutiou of that happy reconciliation of conflicting interests, personal and 
political, Avhich brought the east and west together, and locked in a fratenial 
embrace the two great orators of the east and west. Sii', it was on the 18th 
January, 1825, while the result of the presidential election, in the House of 
Repi'esentatives was still doubtful, while the whole country was looking with 
intense anxiety to that legislative hall where the mighty drama was so soon to 
be acted, that we saw the leaders of two great parties in the house and in the 
nation, " taking sweet counsel together," and in a celebrated debate on the 
Cumberland road, fighting side by side for western interests. It was on 
that memorable occasion that the senator from Massachusetts held out the 
white Jiag to the west, and uttered those liberal sentiments which he yester- 
day so indignantly repudiated. Then it was, that that happy union between 
the members of the celebrated coalition was consummated, whose immediate 
issue was a president fiom one quarter of the Union, with the succession (as 
it was supposed) secured to another. The " American system," before a rude, 
disjointed, and mishapen mass, now assumed form and consistency. Then it 
was that it became " the settled policy of the govei-nment," that this sj'stem 
should be so administered as to ci-eate a reciprocity of intei'esLs and a recipro- 
cal distribution of goveniment favors, east and west, (the tai-iff and internal 
imp)'o\ements,) while the south — yes, sir, the impracticable south — was to 
be "out of your protection." The gentleman may as boast much as he pleases of 
the friendship of New England for the west, as displayed^ in their suppoit of 
internal improvement; but when he next introduces that topic, I trust that 
he will tell us when that friendship commenced, Jioio it was brought about, 
and wh^ it was established. Before I leave this topic, I must be permitted to 
say that the true character of the policy now pursued by the gentleman from 
Massachusetts and his friends, in relation to appropriations of land and money, 
for the benefit of the west, is in my estimation very similar to that pursued 
by Jacob of old toward his brother Esau : " it robs them of their birthright 
for a mess of pottage." 

The gentleman from Massachusetts, in alluding to a remark of mine, 
that before any disposition could be made of the public lands, the national 
d'elt (for which they stand pledged) must be first paid, took occasion to in- 
timate * that the extraordinary fervor which seems to exist in a certain 
quarter, (meaning the south, sir,) for the payment of the debt, arises from a 
disposition to weaken the ties which bind the 2>6oj>le to the Union." While 
the gentleman deals us this blow, he professes an ardent desire to see the debt 
speedily extinguished. He must excuse me, however, for feeling some distrust 
on that subject until I find this disposition manifested by something stronger 
than professions. I shall look for acts, decided and unequivocal acts; for the 
pcrformajice of which an opportunity will very soon (if I am not greatly 
mistaken) be afforded. Sir, if I were at liberty to judge of the course which ~ 
that gentleman would pursue, from the principles which he has laid down in 
relation to this matter, I should be bound to conclude that he will be found 
acting with those with whom it is a darling object to prevent the payment 
of the public debt. He tells us he is desirous of paying the debt, " because 
we are under an obligation to discharge it." Now, sir, suppose it should 
happen that the public creditors, with whom we have contracted the obligation, 
should release us from it, so far as to declare their willingness to wait for pay 
meut for fifty years, provided only the interest shall be jnuictually discharged. 
The gentleman from Massachusetts will then be relcjused from the obligation 



143 

wliicli now mal<es him desirous of paying the debt; and, let me tell the gentle- 
man, the holders of the stock -will not only release us from this obligation, 
but they will implore, nay, they will even pay us not to pay th"em. But, 
adds the gentleman, so far as the debt may have an eflectin binding the debtora 
to the country, and thereby serving as a link to hold the states together, he 
would be glad that it should exist forever. Surely then, sir, on the gentle- 
man's own principles, he must be opposed to the payment of the debt. 

Sir, let me tell that gentleman, that the South repudiates the idea that a 
pecuniary dependence on the federal government is one of the legitimate 
means of holding the states together. A moneyed interest in the government 
is essentially a base interest; and just so far as it operates to bind the feehngs 
of those who are subjected to it to the government — just so far as it operates 
in creating sympathies and interests that would not otherwise exist, — is it 
opposed to all the piinciples of free government, and at war with virtue and 
patriotism. Sir, the link which binds the public creditors, as such, to their 
countr\', binds them equally to all governments, whether arbitrary or free. In 
a free government, this principle of abject dependence, if extended through 
all the I'amifications of society, must be fatal to liberty. Already have we 
made alarming strides in that direction. The entire class of manufacturers, 
the holders of stocks, with their hundreds of millions of capital, are held to 
the government by the strong hnk of pecuniary interests; millions of people 

— entire sections of country, interested or believing themselves to be so, in 
the pubhc lands, and the public treasure — are bound to the government by 
the expectation of pecuniary favoi s. If this system is carried much further, 
no man can fail to see that every generous motive of attachment to the coun- 
try will be destroyed, and in its place will spring up those low, grovelling, base 
and selfish feelings which bind men to the footstool of a despot by bonds as 
strong and enduring as those which attach them to free institutions. Sir, I 
w^ould lay the foundation of this govermnent in the aSections of the people 

— I would teach them to cling to it by dispensing equal justice, and above 
all, by securing the " blessings of liberty" to " themselves and to their posterity." 

The honorable gentleman fi'om Massachusetts has gone out of his way to 
pass a high eulogium on the state of Ohio, in the most impassioned tonea 
of eloquence, he described her majestic march to greatness. He told us, that, 
having already left all the other states far behind, she was now passing by 
Virginia and Pennsylvania, and about to take her station by the side of New 
York. To all this, su-, I was disposed most cordially to respond. When, 
however, the gentleman proceeded to contrast the state of Ohio with Ken- 
tucky, to the disad^'antage of the latter, I listened to him with regret ; and 
when he proceeded further to attribute the great, and, as he supposed, acknow- 
ledged superiority of the former in population, wealth, and general prosperity, 
to the policy of Nathan Dane, of Massachusetts, which had secured to the 
people of Ohio (by the ordinance of 'SV) a population of freemen, I will 
confess that my feelings suft'ered a revulsion which I am now unable to describe 
in any language sufficiently respectful towards the gentleman fi-om Massachu- 
setts. In contrasting the state of Ohio with Kentucky, for the purpose of 
pointing, out the superiority of the former, and of attributing that superiority 
to the existence of slavery in the one state, and its absence in the other, I 
thought 1 could discern the very spirit of the Missouri question, intruded 
into this debate, for objects best known to the gentleman himself. Did that 
gentleman, sir, when he formed the determination to cross the southern border, 
in order to invade the state of South Carolina, deem it prudent or necessary 



144 

to enlist under IiLs banners the prejudices of the world, which, Hke Swiss 
troops, may be engaged in any cause, and are prepared to serve under any 
leader ? Did he desire to avail himself of those remorseless allies, the j^as- 
sions of mankind, of which it may be more tnily said than of the savage 
tribes of the wilderness, " that their known rale of warfare is an indiscriminate 
slaughter of all ages, sexes, and conditions"? Or was it supposed, sir, that in 
a premeditated and unprovoked attack upon the south, it was advisable to 
begin by a gentle admonition of our supposed tveakness, in order to prevent 
us from making that finn and manly resistance due to our own character and 
our dearest interests ? y^t^&\hQ signijicant hint of the tveakness oj slave- 
holding states, w^hen contrasted with the superior strength of free states, — 
like the glare of the weapon half drawn from its scabbard, — intended to 
enforce the lessons of prudence and of patriotism, which the gentleman had 
resolved, out of his abundant generosity, gratuitously to bestow upon us ? IMr. 
President, the impression which has gone abroad of the weakness of the 
south, as connected with the slave question, exposes us to such constant attacks, 
has done us so much injury, and is calculated to produce such infinite mis- 
chiefs, that I embrace the occasion presented by the remarks of the gentleman 
of Massachusetts, to declare that we are ready to meet the question promptly 
and fearlessly. It is one from which we are 'not disposed to shrink, hi what- 
ever foi-m or under whatever circumstances it may be pressed upon us. 

We are ready to make up the issue with the gentleman, as to the influence 
of slavery on individual or national character — on the prosperity and great- 
ness, either of the United States or of particular states. Sir, when arraigned 
before the bar of public opinion, on this charge of slavery, wc can stand up 
with conscious rectitude, plead not guilty, and put oui-selves upon God and 
our country. Su-, we will not consent to look at slaveiy in the abstract. We 
will not stop to inquire whether the black man, as some philosophers have 
contended, is of an inferior race, nor whether his color and condition are the 
effects of a curse inflicted for the offences of his ancestors. We deal in no 
abstractions. Wo will not look back to inquire whether our fathers wei-e 
guiltless in introducing slaves into this countiy. If an inquiiy should ever 
be instituted in these matters, however, it will be found that the profits of the 
slave trade were not confined to the south. Southern ships and southern sail- 
oi-s were not the instruments of bringing slaves to the shores of America, nor 
lid our merchants reap the profit of that *' accursed traffic." But, sir, we will 
pass over all this. If slavery, as it now exists in this country, be an evil, we 
of the present day found it ready made to our hands. Fhiding our lot cast 
among a people whom God had manifestly committed to our care, wo did not 
sit down to speculate on abstract questions of theoretical liberty. We met it 
as a i)ractical question of obligation and duty. We resolved to make the best 
of the situation in which Providence had placed us, and to fulfil (ho high 
trusts which had devolved upon us as the owners of slaves, in the only way in 
which such a tnist could be fulfilled, without spreading misery and ruin 
ihroughout the land. Wo found that avo had to deal with a people whose 
physical, moral, and intellectual habits and character totally disqualified them 
from the enjoyment of the blessings of freedom. Wo could not send them 
back to the shores from whence their fathers had been taken; their numbei-s 
forbade the thought, even if wo did not know that their condition here is 
infinitely preferable to what it possibly coul<l be among the barren sands and 
savage tribes of Africa ; and it was wholly iri-econcilable with all our notions 
of humanity to tear asunder the tender ties which they had formed among us. 



145 

to gratify tlie feelings of a false philanthropy. What a commentary on the 
wisdom, justice, and humanity of the southern slave owner is presented by the 
example of certain benevolent associations and charitable indi\iduals dsewkere! 
Shedding weak teare over sufferings which had existence in their own sickly 
imaginatTons, these " friends of humanity" set themselves systematically to 
work to seduce the slaves of the south from their masters. By means of mis- 
sionaries and political tracts, the scheme was in a great measure successful. 
Thousands of these deluded victims of fanaticism were seduced into the enjoy- 
ment of freedom in our northern cities. And what has been the consequence ? 
Go to these cities now and ask the question. Visit the dark and narrow lanes, 
and obscure recesses, which have been assigned by common consent as the 
abodes of those outcasts of the world, the free people of color. Sir, there 
does not exist, on the face of tjic whole earth, a population so poor, so wretched, 
so vile, so loathsome, so utterly destitute of all the comfoi-ts, conveniences, and 
decencies of life, as the unfortunate blacks of Philadelphia, and New York, 
and Boston. Liberty has been to them the greatest of calamities, the heaviest 
of curses. Sir, I have liad some opportunities of making-comparison between 
the condition of the free negroes of the north and the slaves of the south, and 
the comparison has left not only an indelible impression of the superior advan- 
tages of the latter, but has gone far to reconcile me to slavery itself. Never 
have I felt so forcibly that touching description, " the foxes have holes, and 
the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his 
head," as when I have seen this unhappy race, naked and houseless, almost 
starving in the streets, and abandoned by all the world. Sir, I have seen in 
the neighborhood of one of the most moral, religious, and refined cities of the 
north, a family of free blacks, driven to the caves of the rocks, and there ob- 
taining a precarious subsistence from charity and plunder. 

When the gentleman from Massachusetts adopts and I'eiterates the old charge 
of weakness as resulting from slavery, I must be pennitted to call for the proof 
of those blighting effects which he ascribes to its influence. I suspect that 
when the subject is closely examined, it will be found that there is not much 
force even in the plausible objection of the want of physical power in slave- 
holding states. The power of a country is compotnded of its population and 
its wealth, and in modern times, where, from the very form aiul^ structure of 
society, by fiir the greater portion of the people must, even during the con- 
tinuance of the most desolating wars, be employed in the cultivation of the 
soil and other peacefid pursuits, it may be well doubted whether slaveholding 
states, by reason of the superior value of their productions, are not able to 
maintain a number of troops in the field fully equal to what could be supported 
by states with a larger white population, but not possessed of equal resom'ces. 

It is a popular error to suppose that, in any possible state of things, the 
people of a country could ever be called out en masse, or that a halfj or a 
third, or even a fifth part of the physical force of any country could ever be 
brought into the field. The difficulty is, not to procure men, but to provide 
the means of maintaining them; and m this view of the subject, it may be 
asked whether the Southern States are not a source of strength andpotoer, and 
not of weakness to the country — whether they have not contributed, and ai-o 
not now contributing, largely to the wealth and prosperity of every state in 
this Union. From a statement which I hold in my hand, it appears that in 
ton years — from 1818 to 182Y, inclusive — the whole amount of the domes- 
tic exports of the United States was $521,811,045; of which three articles, 
{the product of slave labor,) viz., cotton, rice, and tobacco, amounted to 
10 



146 

$339,203,232 — equal to about two thirds of the whole. It is not true, as 
has been supposed, that the advantage of this labor is confined almost exclu- 
sively to the Southern States. Sir, I am thoroughly convinced that, at this 
time, the states north of the Potomac actually derive greater profits from the 
labor of our slaves than we do ourselves. It appeal's from our public docu- 
ments, that in seven yeai-s — from 1821 to 1827, inclusive — the six Southern 
States exported §190,337,281, and iynported only 855,646,301. Now, the 
difference between these two sums (near $140,000,000) passed through the 
hands of the northern merchants, and enabled them to cany on their com- 
mercial operations with all the world. Such part of these goods as found its 
way back to our hands came charged with the duties, as well as the profits, of 
the merchant, the ship owner, and a host of others, who found employment in 
carrjing on these immense exchanges ; and for such part as was consumed at 
the north, we received in exchange northern mamfaciures, charged with an 
increased price, to cover all the taxes which the northern consumer had been 
compelled to pay on the imported article. It will be seen, therefore, at a glance, 
how much slave labor has contributed to the wealth and prosperity of the Uni- 
ted States, and how largely our northern brethren have participated in the 
profits of that labor. Sir, on this subject I will quote an authority, which will, 
I doubt not, be considered by the senator from Massachusetts as entitled to 
high respect. It is from the great father of the "American System," honest 
Matthew Carey — no gi-eat iriend, it is true, at this time, to southern rights 
and southern interests, but not the worst authority on that accoimt, on the point 
in question. 

Speaking of the relative importance to the Union of the Southern and 
the Eastern States, Matthew Carey, in the sixth edition of his Olive Branch, 
(p. 278,) after exhibiting a number of statistical tables to show the decided 
superiority of the former, thus proceeds: — 

" But I am tired of this investigation — I sicken for the honor of the human 
spe/^ies. What idea must the world form of the arrogance of the pretensions 
of the one side, [the east] and of the folly and weakness of the rest of the 
Union, to have so long suffered them to pass without exposure and detection. 
The naked fact is, that the demagogues in the Eastern States, not satisfied with 
deriving all the benefit from the sozithern section of the Union that they 
would from so many %oealthy colonies — with making princely fortimes by 
the can-iage and cxpoi-tati<;{n of its bulky and valuable productions, and sup- 
plying it with their own manufactures, and the productions of Europe and 
the East and West Indies, to an enoi-mous amount, and at an immense profit, 
■ have unifonnly treated it with outrage, insult, and injury. And, regardless of 
their vital interests, the Eastern States were lately courting their own destruc- 
tion, by allowing a few restless, turbulent men to lead them blindfolded to a 
separation which v^as pregnant with their certain ruin. Whenever that event 
takes place, they sink into insignificance. If a separation were desirable to any 
part of the Union, it would be to the Middle and Southern States, particulai-ly 
the latter, who have been so long harassed with the complaints, the restlessness, 
the turbulence, and the ingratitude of the Eastern States, that their patience 
has been tried almost beyond endurance. ^Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked'' — 
and he will bo severely punished for his kicking, in the event of a dissolution 
of the Union." Sir, I wish it to be distinctly undei-stood that I do not adopt 
these sentiments as my own. I quote them to show that very diflerent senti- 
ments have prevailed in foi-mer times as to the weakness of the slaveholding 
states from those which now seem to have become fashionable in certain quar- 



147 

ters. I know it lias been supposed by certain ill-informed persons, that the 
south exists only by the countenance and protection of the north. Sir, this is 
the idlest of all idle and ridiculous fancies that ever entered into the mind of 
man. In every state of this Union, except one, the free white population 
actually preponderates ; while in the British West India Islands, (where the 
averao-e white population is less than ten per cent, of the whole,) the slaves 
are kept in entire subjection ; it is preposterous to supjwse that the Southern 
States coidd ever find the smallest difficulty in this respect. On this subject, 
as in all othei's, we ask nothing of our northern brethren but to " let us alone." 
Leave us to the undisturbed management of our domestic concerns, and the 
direction of our o^vn industry, and we will ask no more. Sir, aU our difficiil- 
ties on this subject have arisen from interference from abroad, which, has dis- 
turbed, and may again disturb, our domestic tranquillity just so far as to bring 
down punishment upon the heads of the unfortunate victims of a fanatical and 
mistaken humanity. 

There is a spirit, which, like the father of evil is constantly "walking to and 
fro about the earth, seeking whom it may devour :" it is the spirit of false 
PHiLANTHROPv. The persons whom it possesses do not indeed throw them- 
selves into the flames, but they are employed in lighting up the torches of disr 
cord throughout the community. Their first principle of action is to leave 
their o^vn afl'airs, and neglect their own duties, to regulate the aftairs and duties 
of others. Theirs is the task to feed the hungry, and clothe the naked, of other 
lands, while they thrust the naked, famished, and shivering beggar from their 
own dooi-s ; to mstruct the heathen, while their own children want the bread of 
life. When this spuit mfuses itself into the bosom of a statesman, (if _ one so 
possessed can be called a statesman,) it conveits him at once into a visi(^ary 
enthusiast. Then it is that he indulges in golden dreams of national greatness 
and prosperity. He discovfi-s that " hberty is power," and not content with 
vast schemes of improvement at home, which it would banknipt the treasury of 
the world to execute, he flies to foreign lands, to fulfil obligations to " the human 
race" by inculcating the principles of "political and religious liberty," and pro- 
moting the " general welfare" of the whole human race. It is a spirit which 
has long been busy with the dares of the south; and is even now displaying 
itself in vain efforts to drive the government from its wise policy in relation to 
the Indians. It is this spirit which has filled the land with thousands of wild 
and vision aiy projects, which can have no effect but to waste the energies and dis- 
sipate the resom-ces of the country. It is the spirit of which the aspiring pol- 
itician dexterously avails himself, when, by insci'ibiug on his banner the magi- 
cal words LIBERTY and philantiiropi', he draws to his support that class of 
pei-sons who are ready to bow down at the very name of their idols. 

But, sir, whatever difference of opinion may exist a.s to the effect of slavery 
on national wealth and prosperity, if we may ti-ust to experience, there can be 
no doubt that it has never yet produced any injurious effect on individual or 
national character. Look through the whole history of the country, from the 
commencement of the revolution down to the present hour ; whore are thei-e to 
be found brighter examples of intellectual and moral greatness than have been 
exhibited by the sons of the south? From the Father of his Country 
down to the distinguished chieftain who has been elevated by a grateful 
people to the highest office in their gift, the interval is filled up by a long Hue 
of orators, of statesmen, and of heroes, justly entitled to rank among the ornar 
ments of their country, and the benefactors of mankind. Look at the " Old 
Dominion," great and magnanimous Virginia, " whose jewels are her sons." Is 



148 

there any state in this Union which has contributed so much to tlic honor and 
welfare of the country ? Sir, I will yield the whole question — I will acknowl- 
edge the fatal effects of slavery upon character, if any one can say, that for 
noble disinterestedness, ardent love of countiy, exalted ^•irtuo, and a pure and 
holy devotion to liberty, the people of the Southern States have ever been sur- 
passed by any in the -world. I know, sir, that this devotion to liberty has 
sometimes been supposed to be at war with our institutions; but it is in some 
de_2Tee the result of those very institutions. Bui-ke, the most philosophical of 
hiatesraen, as he was the most accomplished of orators, well undei-stood the 
operation of this principle, in elevating the sentiments and exalting the princi- 
ples of the people in slaveholding states. I will conclude my remarks on this 
branch of the subject, by reading a few passages from his speech " on mo\inrr 
his resolutions for conciliation with the colonies," the 22d of March, 1V75. 

" There is a circumstance attending the southern colonies which makes the 
spirit of liberty still more high and haughty than in those to the northward. 
It is, that in Virginia and the Carolinas they have a vast multitude of slaves. 
Where this is the case, in any part of the world, those who are free are by far 
the most proud and jealous of their freedom. Freedom is to them not only 
an enjoyment, but a kind of rank and privilege. Not seeing there, as in coun- 
tries where it is a common blessing, and as broad and general as the air, that 
it may be united with much abject toil, with great misery, vrith all the exterior 
of servitude, liberty looks among them like something more noble and libei-al. 
I do not mean, sir, to commend the superior morality of this sentiment, which 
has, at least, as much pride as virtue in it — but I cannot alter the nature of 
man. The fact is so ; and these peoj^le of the southern colonies are much 
more strongly, and with a higher and more stubborn spuit, attached to liberty 
than those to the northward. Such were all the ancient commonwealths — such 
were our Gothic ancestors — such, in our days, were the Poles — and such will 
he all masters of slaves who are not slaves themselves. In such a people, the 
haughtiness of domination combines with the spirit of freedom, fortifies it, and 
renders it iuvincihleJ'' 

In the course of my foi-mer remarks, Mr. President, I took occasion to de- 
p]-ecate, as one of the greatest evils, the consolidation of this government. 
The gentleman takes alarm at the sound. "Consolidation" like the ^^ tariff," 
grates upon his ear. Ho tells us, " we have heard much of late about consoli- 
dation ; that it is the rallying word of all who are endeavoring to tveaken 
the Union, by adding to the power of the states." But consolidation (says 
the gentleman) was the very object for which the Union was formed ; and, in 
support of that opinion, he read a passage from the address of the president 
of the convention to Congress, which he assumes to be authority on his side 
of the question. But, sir, the gentleman is mistaken. The object of the fra- 
mers of the constitution, as disclosed in that address, was not the consolida- 
tion of the government, but " the consolidation of the Union." It was not to 
draw power from the states, in order to transfer it to a great national govern- 
ment, but, in the language of the constitution itself, " to foi-m a more perfect 
Union ;" — and by what means ? By " establishing justice, ]n-omoting do- 
mestic tranquillity, and securing the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our 
posterity." This is the tnio reading of the constitution. But, according to 
the gentleman's reading, the object of the constitution was, to consolidate the 
government, and the means would seem to be, the promotion of injustice, 
causing domestic discord, and depriving the states and the people " of the 
blessings of liberty" for ever. 



149 

The gentleman boasts of belonging to the party of National Republi- 
cans. National Republicans ! A new name, sir, for a very old thing. The 
National RepubUcans of the present day were the Federalists of '98, who 
became Federal Republicans during the war of 1812, and were mamifac- 
tured into JSfational Republicans somewhere about tlw year 1825. 

As a party, (by whatever name distinguished,) they have always been 
animated by the same principles, and have kept steadily in view a, common 
object, the consolidation of the government. Sir, the party to which I am 
proud of having belonged, from the very commencement of my political life 
to the present day, were the Democrats of '98, {Anarchists, Anti-Federal- 
ists, Revolutionists, I think they were sometimes called.) They assumed 
the name of Democratic Republicans in 1822, and have retained their 
name and principles up to the present hour. True to their political faith, 
they have always, as a party, been in favor of limitations of power; they have 
insisted that all powers not delegated to the federal goverament are reserved, 
and have been constantly struggUng, as they now are, to preserve the rights 
of the states, and to prevent them from being drawn into the vortex, and swal- 
lowed up by one great consolidated government. 

Sir, any one acquainted with the history of parties in this country wiU re- 
cognize in the points now in dispute between the senator from Massachusetts 
and myself the very grounds which have, from the beginnmg, divided the 
two great parties in this country, and which (call these parties by what 
names you wiU, and amalgamate them as you may) will divide them for 
ever. The true distinction between those parties is laid down in a celebrated 
manifesto, issued by the convention of the Federalists of Massachusetts, as- 
sembled in Boston, in February, 1824, on the occasion of organizing a party 
opposition to the re-election of Governor Eustis. The gentleman will recog- 
nize this as "the canonical book of political scripture;" and it instructs us 
that, wnen the American colonies redeemed themselves from British bondage, 
and became so many independent nations, they proposed to form a Na- 
tional Union, (not a Federal Union, sir, but a National Union.) Those 
who were in favor of a union of the states in this form became known by 
the name of Federalists; those who wanted no union of the states, or dis- 
hked the proposed form of union, became known by the name of Anti-Fed- 
eralists. By means which need not be enumerated, the Anti-Federalists 
became (after the expiration of twelve years) our national rulers, and fora 
period of sixteen years, until the close of Mr. Madison's administration, in 
1817, continued to exercise the exclusive direction of our public aftairs. 
Here, sir, is the true history of the origin, rise, and progress of the party of 
National Republicans,\}io date back to the very origin of the government, 
and who, then, as now, chose to consider the constitution as having created, 
not a Federal, but a National Union; who regarded " consolidation" as no 
evil, and who doubtless consider it " a consummation devoutly to be wished," 
to build up a great " central government," " one and indivisible." Sir, there 
have existed, in every age and every country, two distinct orders of men-:— 
the lovers of freedom, and the devoted advocates of power. 

The same great leading principles, modified only by the peculiarities of 
manners, habits, and institutions, divided parties in the ancient republics, ani- 
mated the whigs and tories of Great Britain, distinguished in our own tim,es 
the liberals and ultras of France, and may be traced even in the bloody 
struggles of unhappy Spain. Sir, when the gallant Riego, who devoted 
himself, and all that he possessed, to the liberties of his country, was dragged 



150 

to the scaftbld, followed by the tears and lamentations of every lover of free- 
dom throughout the world, he perished amid the deafening cries of " Long 
live the absolute king !" The people whom I represent, Mr. President, are 
tlie descendants of those who brought with them to this country, as the most 
precious of their possessions, " an ardent love of liberty ;" and while that shall 
be preserved, they will always be found manfully sti-uggling against the 
consolidation of the government — as the worst of evils. 

The senator from Massachusetts, in alluding to the tariff, becomes quite fa- 
cetious. He tells us that " he hears of nothing but tariff, tariff, tariff; and, 
if a word could be found to rhyme with it, he presumes it would be cele- 
brated in vei-se and set to music." Sir, perhaps the gentleman, in mockery 
of our complaints, may be himself disposed to sing the praises of the taritl, 
in doggerel verse, to the tune of " Old Hundi-ed." I am not at all surprised, 
however, at the aversion of the gentleman to the very name of tariff. I doubt 
not that it must aways bring up some very unpleasant recollections to his 
mind. If I am not greatly mistaken, the senator from Massachusetts was a 
leading actor at a great meeting got up in Boston in 1820, against the tariff. 
It has generally been supposed that he drew up the resolutions adopted by 
that meeting, denouncing the tariff system as unequal, oppressive, and unjust, 
and if I am not much mistaken, denying its constitutionality. Certain it is, 
that the gentleman made a speech on that occasion in support of those reso- 
lutions, denouncing the system in no very measured terms; and, if my mem- 
ory serves me, calling its constitidionality in question. I regret that I have 
not been able to lay my hands on those proceedings; but I have seen them, 
and cannot be mistaken in their character. At that time, sir, the senator 
from Massachusetts entertained the very sentiments in relation to the tariff^ 
which the South now entertains. We next find the senator from Massachu- 
setts expressing his opinion on the tariff, as a member of the House of Repre- 
sentatives from the city of Boston, in ] 824. On that occasion, sir, the gen- 
tleman assumed a position which commanded the respect and admiration of 
his country. He stood forth the powerful and fearless champion oifree trade. 
He met, in that conflict, the advocates of restriction and monopoly, and they 
" fled from before his face." With a profound sagacity, a fullness of know- 
ledge, and a richness of illustration that have never been surpassed, he main- 
tained and established the principles of commercial freedom, on a foundation 
never to be shaken. Great indeed was the victory achieved by the gentle- 
man on that occasion ; most striking the contrast between the clear, forcible, 
and convmciug arguments by which he carried away the understandings of 
his hearers, and the narrow views and wretched sophistry of another distin- 
fjuished orator, who may be truly said to have " held up his farthing candle 
to the sun." 

Sir, the senator from Massachusetts, on that, the proudest day of his life, 
hke a mighty giant, bore away upon his shoulders the pillars of the temple 
of error and delusion, escaping himself unhurt, and leaving his adversaries 
overwhelmed in its ruins. Then it was that he erected to free trade a beauti- 
ful and enduring monument, and "inscribed the marble with his name." Mr. 
President, it is with pain and regret that I now go forward to the next great 
era in the political life of that gentleman, when ho was found on this floor, 
sui.porting, advocating, and finally voting for the tariff' of 1828 — that "bill 
of abominations." By that act, sir, the senator from I^Iassachusetts has de- 
stroyed the labors of his whole life, and given a wound to the cause of free 
trade never to be healed. Sii-, when I recollect the position which that gen- 



151 

tleman once occupied, and that whicli he now holds in public estimation, in 
relation to this subject, it is not at all surprising that the tariti' should be 
hateful to his ears. Sir, if I had erected to ray own fame so prou<l a monu- 
ment as that which the gentleman built up in 1824, and I could have been 
tempted to destroy it with my own hands, I should hate the voice that should 
rino- "the accursed tariff" in my ears. I doubt not the gentleman feels very 
miich, in relation to the tariff, as a certain knight did to " instinct^' and with 
him would be disposed to exclaim, — 

Ahl no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me." 

But, Mr. President, to be more serious ; what are we of the south to think 
of what \>e have heard this day ? The senator from Massachusetts tells lis that 
the tariff is not an eastern measure, and treats it as if the east had no interest 
in it. The senator from Missouri insists it is not a western measure, and that 
it ha-s done no good to the west. The south comes in, and, in the most earnest 
manner, represents to you that this measure, which we are told " is of no 
value to the east or the west," is " utterly destructive of our interests." We 
represent to you that it has spread ruin and devastation through the laud, and 
prostrated our hopes in the dust. We solemnly declare that we beheve the 
system to be wholly unconstitutional, and a violation of the compact between 
the states and the Union; and our brethren turn a deaf ear to our com2}lalnts, 
and refuse to relieve us from a system "which not enriches them, but makes 
us poor indeed." Good God! Mr. President, has it come to this? Do gen- 
tlemen hold the feelings and wishes of their brethren at so cheap a rate, that 
they refuse to gi-atify them at so small a price ? Do gentlemen value so lightly 
the peace and harmony of the country, that they will not yield a measure of 
this description to the affectionate entreaties and earnest remonstrances of their 
friends ? Do gentlemen estimate the value of the Union at so low a price, 
that they will not even make one effort to bind the states together with the 
oords of affection ? And has it come to this ? Is this the spij-it in which this 
government is to be administered ? If so, let me tell gentlemen, the seeds of 
dissolution are already sown, and our children will reap the bitter fruit. 

The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Webster,) while he 
exonerates me personally from the charge, intimates that there is a party in 
the country who are looking to disunion. Sir, if the gentleman had stopped 
there, the accusation would have " passed by me like the idle wind, which I 
regard not." But when he goes on to give to his accusation "a local habita- 
tion and a name," by quoting the expression of a distinguished citizen of South 
Carolina, (Dr. Cooper,) "that it was time for the south to calculate the value 
of the Union," and in the language of the bitterest sarcasm, adds, " Surely 
then the Union cannot last longer than July, 1831," it is impossible to mistake 
either the allusion or the object of the gentleman. Now, Mr. President, I call 
upon every one who heai-s me to bear witness that this controversy is not of 
my seeking. The Senate will do me the justice to remember that, at the 
time this unprovoked and uncalled-for attack was made on the south, not one 
word had been uttered by me in disparagement of New England ; nor had I 
made the most distant allusion either to the senator from Ma.ssachusetts or the 
state he represents. But, sir, that gentleman has thought proi)er, for pui-poses 
best known to himself, to strike the south, through me, the most unworthy of 
her servants. He has crossed the border, he has invaded the state of South 
Carolina, is making war upon her citizens, and endeavoi-ing to overthrow her 
principles and her institutions. Sir, when the gentleman provokes me to such 



152 

:i conflict, I meet him at the threshold ; I will stmggle, while I have life, for 
our altars and our firesides; and, if God gi\es me strength, I will drive back 
the in\adfr discomfited. Nor shall I stop there. If the gentleman provokes 
the war, he shall have war. Sir, I will not stop at the border ; I will carry 
the war into the enemy's territory, and not consent to lay down my anns until 
I have obtained "indemnity for the past and security for the future." It is 
with unfeigned reluctance, Mr. President, that I enter upon the perfonnauC(.: 
of this part of my duty ; I shrink almost instinctively from a couise, however 
necessary, Avhieh may have a tendency to excite sectional feelings and sectional 
jealousies. But, sir, the task has been forced upon me ; and I proceed rio-ht 
onward to the performance of my duty. Be the consequences what they may, 
the responsibility is with those who have imposed upon me this necessity. 
The senator from Massachusetts has thought proper to cast the first stone ; and 
if he shall find, according to a hourly adage, "that he lives in a glass house," 
on his head be the consequences. The gentleman has made a gi-eat flourish 
about his fidelity to Massachusetts. I shall make no professions of zeal for 
the interests and honor of South CaroHna; of that my constituents shall judge. 
If there be one state in the Union, Mr. President, (and I say it not in a boa-^t- 
ful spirit,) that may challenge comparison with any other, for a uniform, zeal- 
ous, ardent, and uncalculating devotion to the Union, that state is South Car- 
olina. Sir, from the very commencement of the revolution up to this hour, 
there is no sacrifice, however great, she has not cheerfully made, no service 
she has ever hesitated to perform. She has adhered to you in your prosper- 
ity ; but in yom- adversity she has clung to you with more than filial afiection. 
No matter what was the condition of her domestic aflaii-s, though depri\-ed of 
er resources, divided by parties, or surrvutuded with difBcidties, the call of 
ine country has been to her as the voice of God. Domestic discord ceased 
av the sound ; every man became at once reconciled to his brethren, and the 
sons of Carolina Averc aU seen crowdmg together to the temple, bringing their 
gifts to the altar of their common country. 

What, sir, was the conduct of the soutb daring the revolution ? Sir, I 
honor New England for her conduct in that glorious struggle. But gi-eat as 
is the praise which belongs to her, I think, at least, equal honor is due to the 
south. They espoused the quarrel of their brethren with a generous zeal, 
which did not sufier them to stop to calculate their interest in the dispute. 
Favorites of the mother country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to 
create a commercial rivalship, they might have found in their situation a 
guaranty that their trade wovdd be forever fostered and protected by Great 
Britain. But, trampling on all considerations either of interest or safety, they 
rushed into the conflict, and fighting for principle, perilled all, in the sacred 
cause of freedom. Never was there exhibited in the history of the world 
higher examples of noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance, 
than by the whigs of Carolina during the revolution. The whole state, from 
the mountains to the sea, was overrun by an overwhelming force of the enemy. 

The fruits of industry perished on the spot where they were produced, or 
were consumed by the foe. The " plains of Carolina" drank up the most 
precious blood of her citizens. Black and smoking ruins marked the places 
wliich had been the habitations of her children. Driven from their homes 
into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, even there the s]>irit of 
hberity survi\ed, and South Cai-olina (sustained by the example of her Sumj>- 
ters and her Marions) proved by her conduct, that though her soil might bo 
overrun, the spirit of her people was invincible. 



153 

But^ sir, our country was soon called upon to engage in another revolution- 
ary struggle, and that, too, was a struggle for principle. I mean the politi- 
cal revolution which dates hack to '98, and which, if it had not been success- 
fully achieved, would have left us none of the fruits of the revolution of "76. 
The revolution of '98 restored the constitution, rescued the liberty of the 
citizen fi-om the grasp of those who were aiming at its life, and in the emphatic 
language of Mr. Jefterson, " saved the constitution at its last gasp." And by 
whom was it achieved ? By the south, sir, aided only by the democracy of 
the north and west. 

I come now to the war of 1812 — a war which I well remember, was called 
in derision — while its events were doubtful — the southern war, and some- 
times the Carolina war; but which is now univei-sally acknowledged to have 
done more for the honor and prosperity of the country than aU other events 
in our history put together. What, sir, were the objects of that war ? " Free 
trade and sailor's rights !" It was for the protection of northern shipping and 
New England seamen that the country flew to arms. What interest had the 
south in "that contest ? If they had sat down coldly to calculate the value 
of their interests involved in it, they would have found that they had every 
thing to lose, and nothing to gain. But, sn, with that generous devotion to 
country so characteristic of the south, they only asked if the rights of any 
portion of theh feUow-citizens had been invaded ; and when told that north- 
ern ships and New England seamen had been arrested on the common high- 
way of nations, they felt that the honor of their country was assailed ; and 
acting on that exalted sentiment "which feels a stam hke a wound," they 
resolved to seek, in open war, for a redi-ess of those injuries which it did not 
become freemen to endure. Sir, the whole south, animated as by a common 
impulse, cordially united in declaring and promoting that war. South Caro- 
lina sent to your councils, as the advocates and supporters of that war, the 
noblest of her sons. How they fulfilled that tmst let a grateful countiy tell. 
Not a measm-e was adopted, not a battle fought, not a victory won, which 
contributed, in any degree, to the success of that war, to which southei-n 
councils and southern valor did not largely contribute. Sir, since South 
CaroHna is assailed, I must be suffered to speak it to her praise, that at the 
very moment when, in one quarter, we heard it solemnly proclaimed, " that it 
did not become a religious and moral people to rejoice at the victories of our 
army or our navy," her legislature unanimously 

" Resolved, That we will cordially support the government in the vigorous 
prosecution of the war, until a peace can be obtained on honorable terms, and 
we will cheerfully submit to every privation that may be required of us, by 
our government, for the accomplishment of this object." 

South Carolina redeemed that pledge. She threw open her ti-easury to 
the government. She put at the absolute disposal of the officei-s of the U. 
States aU that she possessed — her men, her money, and her arms. She 
appropriated half a million of dollars, on her own account, in defence of 
her maritime frontier, ordered a brigade of state troops to be raised, and when 
left to protect herself by her own means, never suftered the enemy to touch 
her soil, without being instantly driven off or captured. 

Such, sir, was the conduct of the south — such the conduct of my own 
state in that dark hour " which tried men's souls." 

When I look back and contemplate the spectacle exhibited at that time in 
another quarter of the Union — when I think of the conduct of certain por- 
tions of New England, and remember the part which was acted on that 



154 

memorable occasion by the political associates of the gentleman from Massa- 
chusetts — nay, when I follow that gentleman into the coimcils of the nation, 
and listen to his voice dining the darkest period of the war, I am indeed as- 
tonished that he should venture to touch upon the topics which he has intro- 
duced into this debate. South Carolina reproached by Massachusetts ! And 
from whom does the accusation come ? Not from the democracy of New 
England; for they have been in times past, as they are now, the friends and 
allies of the south. No, sir, tho accusation comes from that party whose acts, 
during the most trying and eventful period of our national history, were of 
such a character, that their own legislature, but a few years ago, actually 
blotted them out fi-om their records, as a stain upon the honor of the country. 
But how can they ever be blotted out from the recollection of any one who 
had a heart to feel, a mind to comprehend, and a memory to retain, the events 
of that day ! Sir, I shall not attempt to write the history of the party in 
New England to which I have alluded — tho war party in peace, and the 
peace party in war. That task I shall leave to some future biographer ot 
Nathan Dane, and I doubt not it will be found quite easy to prove that the 
peace party of Massachusetts were the only defenders of their country during 
their war, and actually achieved all om- victories by land and sea. In the 
mean time, sir, and until that history shall be written, I propose, with the 
feeble and glimmering lights which I possess, to review the conduct of this 
party, in connection with the war, and the events which immediately pre- 
ceded it. 

It will be recollected, sir, that our great causes of quarrel with Great 
Britain were her depredations on northern commerce, and the impressment of 
New England seamen. From every quarter we were called upon for pro- 
tection. Importunate as the west is now represented to be on another subject, 
the importunity of the east on that occasion was far greater. I hold in my 
hands the evidence of the fact. Here are petitions, memorials, and remon- 
sti-ances from all parts of New England, setting forth the injustice, the op- 
pressions, the depredations, the insults, the outrages committed by Great 
Britain against the unoffending commerce and seamen of New England, and 
calling upon Congress for redress. Sh, I cannot stop to read these memorials. 
In that from Boston, after stating the alarming and extensive condemnation 
of our vessels by Great Britain, which threatened " to sweep our commerce 
from the face of the ocean," and " to involve our merchants in bankruptcy," 
they call upon the government "to assert our rights, and to adopt such 
measures as will support the dignity and honor of the United States." 

From Salem we heard a language still more decisive ; they call exphcitly 
for " an appeal to arms," and pledge their lives and property in support of any 
measures which Congress might adopt. From Newburyport an appeal was 
made " to the firmness and justice of the government to obtain compensation 
and protection." It was here, I think, that, when the Avar was declared, it 
resolved "to resist our own government even unto blood." [Olive Branch, p. 101. 

In other quarters the common language of that day was, that our com- 
merce and our seamen were entitled to protection ; and that it was the duty 
of the government to afford it at every hazard. The conduct of Great Britain, 
wo were then told, was " an outrage upon our national independence." These 
clamors, which commenced as early as January, 180G, were continued up to 
1812. In a message from the governor of one of the New England States, 
as late as the 10th October, 1811, this language is held :_" A manly and de- 
cisive course has become indispensable ; a course to satisfy foreign nations. 



155 

that, wliile we desire peace, we liave tlie means and tlie spirit to repel aggres- 
sion. We are false to ourselves when our commerce, or our territory, is in- 
vaded with impunity." 

About this time, however, a remarkable change was observable in the tone 
and temper of those who had been endeavoring to force the country into a 
war. The language of complaint was changed into that of insult, and calls 
for protection converted into reproaches. " Smoke, smoke!" says one writer; 
" my hfe on it, our executive have no more idea of declaring war than my 
gi-andmother." " The committee of ways and means," says anothei-, " have 
come out with their Pandora's box of taxes, and yet nobody dreams of Avar." 
" Congress do not mean to declare war ; they dare not." But why multiply 
examples ? An honorable member of the other house, from the city of Boston, 
[Mr. Quincy,] in a speech delivered on the 3d April, 1812, says, "Neither 
promises, nor threats, nor asse\erations, nor oaths, will make me believe that 
you will go to war. The navigation states are sacrificed, and the spirit and 
character of the countiy prostrated by fear and avarice." " You cannot," said 
the same gentleman, on another occasion, " be kicked into a war." 

Well, sir, the war at length came, and what did we behold ? The very 
men who had been for six years clamorous for war, and for whose protection 
it was waged, became at once equally clamorous against it. They had received 
a miraculous visitation; a new hght suddenly beamed upon their minds; the 
scales fell from their eyes, and it was discovered that the war was declared 
from "subserviency to France;" and that Congress, and the executive, "had 
sold themselves to Napoleon ; " that Great Britain had in fact " done us no 
essential injury ; " that she was " the bulwark of our religion ; " that where 
" she took one of om- ships, she protected twenty ; " and that, if Great Britain 
had impressed a few of our seamen, it was because "she could not distinguish 
them from their own." And so far did this spirit extend, that a committee of 
the Massachusetts legislature actually fell to calculation, and discovered, to their 
infinite satisfaction, but to the astonishment of all the world besides, that only 
eleven Massachusetts sailors had ever been impressed. Never shall I forget 
the appeals that had been made to the sympathies of the south in behalf of the 
" thousands of impressed Americans," who had been torn from their femihes 
and friends, and " immured in the floating dungeons of Britain." The most 
touching pictures were ch-awn of the hai-d condition of the American sailor, 
" treated hke a slave," forced to fight the battles of his enemy, " lashed to the 
mast, to be shot at hke a dog." But, sir, the very moment we had taken up 
arms in their defence, it was discovered that all these were mere " fictions of 
the brain ; " and that the whole number in the state of Massachusetts was but 
eleven; and tiiat even these had been "taken by mistake." Wonderful dis- 
covery ! The secretary of state had collected authentic lists of no less than 
six thousand impressed Americans. Lord Castlereagh himself acknowledged 
sixteen hundred. Calculations on the basis of the number found on board 
of the Guerriere, the Macedonian, the Java, and other British ships, (captured 
bv the skill and gallantry of those heroes whose achievements are the ti-eas- 
ui-ed monuments of their country's glory,) fixed the number at seven thou- 
sand ;. -and yet, it seems, Massachusetts had lost but eleven! Eleven Mjissa- 
chusetts sailore taken by mistake ! A cause of war indeed ! Their ships too, 
the capture of which had threatened " universal bankruptcy," it was discovered 
that Great Britain was their friend and protector; " where she had taken one 
she had protected twenty." Then was the discovery made, that subserviency 

France, hostility to commerce, " a determination, on the part of the south 



156 

and west, to break doven the Eastem States," and especially (as reported by a 
committee of tlie Mn^sacliusetts legislature) " to force the sons of commerce 
to populate the ^\ilLicrness," -were the tme causes of the war. (Olive Branch, 
pp. 134, 291.) But let us look a little fm-ther into the conduct of the peace 
party of New England at that important crisis. Whatever difference of 
opinion might have existed as to the causes of the war, the countiy had a 
right to expect, that, when once involved in the contest, all America would 
have cordially united in its support. Sir, the war effected, in its progress, a 
union of all parties at the south. But not so in New England ; there great 
efforts were made to stir up the minds of the people to oppose it* Nothing 
was left undone to embarrass the financial operations of the gOAcrnment, to 
prevent the enlistment of troops, to keep back the men and money of New 
England from the service of the Union, to force the president from his seat. 
Yes, sir, " the Island of Elba, or a halter ! " were the alternatives they pre- 
sented to the excellent and venerable James Madison. Sii', the war was fur- 
ther opposed by openly carrying on illicit trade with the enemy, by pei-mitting 
that enemy to establish herself on the very soil of Massachusetts, and by 
openujg a free trade between Great Britain and America, with a separate 
custom house. Yes, sir, those who cannot endure the thought that we should 
insist on a free trade, in time of profound peace, could, without scniple, claim 
and exercise the right of carrying on a free trade with the enemy in a time 
of war; and finally by getting up the renowned " Hartford Convention," and 
preparing the way for an open resistance to the government, and a separation 
of the states. Sir, if I am asked for the proof of those things, I fearlessly 
appeal to contemporary history, to the pubhc documents of the country, to 
the recorded opinion and acts of public assembhes, to the declaration and 
acknowledgments, since made, of the executive and legislature of Massachu- 
setts hei-selil* 

Sir, the time has not been allowed me to trace this subject thi-ough, even 
if I had been disposed to do so. But I cannot refrain from referring to one 
or two documents, which have fallen in my way since this debate began. I 
read, sir, from the OHve Branch of Matthew Cai-ey, in which are collected 
" the actings and doings " of the peace party of New England, during the 
continuance of the embargo and the war. I know the senator from Massa- 



* In answer to an address of Governor Eustis, denouncing the conduct of the 
peace party during the war, the House of Representatives of Massachusetts, in June, 
1823, say, " The change of the political sentiments evinced in the late elections forms 
indeed a new era in the history of our commonwealth. It is tlie triumph of reason 
over passion; of patriotism over party spirit. Massachusetts has returned to her first 
love, and is no longer a stranger in the Union. We rejoice that though, during the 
last war, such measures were adopted in this state as occasioned double sacrifice of 
treasure and of life, covered the friends of the nation with humiliation and mourn- 
ing, and fixed a stain on the page of our history, a redeeming spirit has at length 
arisen, to take away our reproach, and restore to us our good name, our rank among 
our sister states, and our just influence in the Union. 

" Though we would not renew contentions, or irritate wantonly, wc believe that 
there are cases when it is necessary we sliould ' wound to heal.' And we consider it 
among the first duties of the friends of our national government, on this return of 
power, to disavow the unwarrantable course pursued by this state, during the late 
war, and to hold up the measures of that period as beacons ; that the present and 
succeeding generations may shun that career which must inevitably terminate in the 
destruction of the individual or party who pursues it ; and may learn the important 
lesson, that, in all times, the path of duty is the path of safety ; and that it is never 
dangerous to rally around the standard of our country." 



157 

chusetts will respect the high authority of his political friend and fellow-laborer 
in the great cause of " domestic industry." 

In p, 301, et seq., 309 of this work, is a detailed account of the measui-es 
adopted in Massachusetts during the war, for the express purpose of embar- 
rassing the financial operations of the government by preventing loans, njxd 
thereby driving our nilei-s from their seats, and forcing the country into :\ dis- 
honorable peace. It appears that the Boston banks commenced an operation, 
bv which a run was to be made upon all the banks to the south ; at the same 
time stopping then- own discounts; the eftect of which was to produce a sud- 
den and most alarming diminution of the circulating medium, and universal 
distress over the whole country — '' a distress which they tailed not to attribute 
to the unholy war." 

To such an extent was this system carried, that it appears, from a statement 
of the condition of the Boston "banks, made up in January, 1814, that with 
neai-ly §5,000,000 of specie in their vaidts, they had but 82,000,000 of bills 
in circulation. It is added by Carey, that at this very time an extensive trade 
was carried on in British government bills, for which specie was sent to Canada, 
for the payment of the British troops, then laying waste our northern frontier; 
and this too at the very moment when New England ships, . sailing under 
British licenses, (a trade declared to be lawful by the courts both of Great 
Britain and Massachusetts,*) were supplymg with provisions those very armies 
destined for the invasion of our own shores. Sir, the author of the Ohve 
Branch, with a holy indignation, denounces these acts as "treasonable;" 
" giving aid and comfort to the enemy." I shall not follow his example. But 
I will ask, "With what justice or propriety can the south be accused of disloyalty 
from that quarter? If we had any evidence that the senator from Massachu- 
setts had admonished his brethren then, he might, with a better grace, assume 
the ofiice of admonishing us now. 

When I looked at the mesaures adopted in Boston, at that day, to deprive 
the o-oveniment of the necessaiy means for carrying on the war, and think of 
the success and the consequences of those measures, I feel my pride, as an 
American, humbled in the dust. Hear, sii-, the language of that day. _ I read 
from pages 301 and 302 of the Ohve Branch. "Let no man who wishes to 
continue the war, by active means, by vote, or lending money, dare to pros 
Q-ate himself at the altar on the fast day." " WiU federalists subscribe to the 
loan? Will they lend money to our national rulers? It is impossible. First, 
because of principle, and secondly, because of principal and interest." " Do 
not prevent the abusers of their trust from becoming banknipt. Do not pre- 
vent them fi-om becoming odious to the public, and being replaced by better 
men." "Any federalist who lends money to government must go and shake 
hands with James Madison, and claim fellowship with Fchx Gnmdy." (I beg 
pardon of my honorable friend from Tennessee — but ho is in good company. 
I had thought it was James Madison, Fehx Grundy, and the devil.") Let 
him no more " call himself a federahst, and a friend to his country : he will 
be called by others infamous," (fee. 

Sir, the spirit of the people sunk under these appeals. Such was the effect 
produced by them on the public mind, that the veiy agents of the govei-nmcnt 
(as appears from their public advertisements, now before me) could not obtam 
loans without a pledge that "the names of the subscribers should not be 
known." Here are the advertisements: " The names of all subscribers" (say 



2d Dodson's Admiralty Eeports, 48. 13tli Mass. Reports, 26. 



158 

Gilbert and Dean, the brokers employed by government) " shall be known 
only to the imdei-signed." As if those who came forward to aid their coun- 
try, in the hour of her utmost need, were engaged in some dark and foul con- 
spiracy, they were assui-ed " that their names should not be known." Can 
any thing show more conclusively the imhappy state of public feehng which 
prevailed at that day than this single fact ? Of the same character with these 
measures was the conduct of Massachusetts in withholding her militia from 
the service of the United States, and devising measures for withdrawing her 
quota of the taxes, thereby attempting, not merely to cripple the resom-ces of 
the country, but actually depriving the government (as far as depended upon 
her) of all the means of carrying on the war — of the bone, and muscle, and 
sinews of war — "of man and steel — the soldier and his sword." But it 
seems Massachusetts was to reseiTe her resom-ces for herself — she was to 
defend and protect her owii shores. And how was that duty peifoi-med ? In 
some places on the coast neutrality was declared, and the enemy was suffered 
to invade the soil of Massachusetts, and allowed to occupy her territory until 
the peace, without one effort to rescue it from his grasp. Nay, more — while 
our own government and our rulers were considered as enemies, the troops of 
the enemy wei'e treated like friends — the most intimate commercial relations 
were estabhshed with them, and maintained up to the peace. At this dark 
period of our national affaks, where was the senator from Massachusetts ! How 
were his political associates employed ? " Calculating the value of the Union ? " 
Yes, sir, that was the ^^ropitious moment, when our country stood alone, the 
last hope of the world, sti-uggling for her existence against the colossal power 
of Great Britain, " concentrated in one mighty effort to cnish us at a blow ; " 
that w^as the chosen hour to revive the grand scheme of building up " a great 
northern confederacy " — a scheme which, it is stated in the work before me, 
had its origin as far back as the year 1796, and which appears never to have 
been entirely abandoned. 

In the language of the wi'iters of that day, (iT&C,) "rather than have a 
constitution such as the anti-federalists were contending for, (such as we are 
now contending for,) the Union ought to be dissolved ;" and to prepare the 
way for that measure, the same methods were resorted to then that have 
always been relied on for that piu'pose, exciting prejudice against the south. 
Yes, sir, our northern brethren were then told, " that if the negroes •vgere 
good for food, their southren mastera would claim the right to destroy them 
at pleasm-e." (Olive Branch, p. 267.) Sir, in 1814, all these topics were 
revived. Again we hear of " a northern confederacy." " The slave states by 
themselves;" " the mountains are the natural boundary:" we want neither 
" the counsels nor the power of the west," &c., &c. The papers teemed 
with accusations against the south and the west., and the calls for a dissolution 
of all connection with them were loud and strong. I cannot consent to go 
through the disgusting details. But to show the height to which the spirit 
of disaffection was carried, I will take you to the temple of the living God, 
and show you that sacred place, which shoidd be devoted to the extension 
of " peace on earth and good will towards men," where " one day's truce 
ought surely to be allowed to dissensions and animosities of mankind," con- 
verted into a fierce arena of political strife., where, from the lips of the priest, 
fttanditig between the horns of the alt^ir, there went forth the most terrible 
denunciations against all who should be true to their country in the hour of 
her utmost need. 

"• If you do not wish," said a reverend clergyman, in a sermon preached ii 



159 

Boston, on the 23d July, 1812, "to become the slaves of those who own 
slaves, and who are themselves the slave of French slaves, you must either, 
in the language of the day, cut the connectiox, or so far alter the national 
compact ;is to insure to yourselves a due share in the government." [Olive 
Branch, p. 319.] "The Union," says the same writer, [p. 320,] "has been 
lon^• since virtually dissolved, and it is full time that this part of the disunited 
states should take care of itself." 

Another reverend gentleman, pastor of a church at Medford, [p. 321,] 
issues his anathema — " Let him btakd accursed" — against all, all who, by 
their " personal services," for " loans of money," " conversation," or " writing," 
or " influence," give countenance or support to the unrighteous war, in the 
following terms : " That man is an accomphce in the wickedness — he loads 
his conscience with the blackest crimes — he brings the guilt of blood upon 
his soul, and in the sight of God and his law, he is a murderer.' 

One or two more quotations, sir, and I shall have done. A reverend 
doctor of divinity, the pastor of a church at Byfield, Massachusetts, on the 
•7th of April, 1814, thus addresses his flock, [p. 321 :] " The Israelites became 
weary of yielding the fruit of their labor to pamper their ^^lendid tyrants. 
They left their political woes. They separated; where is om- Moses? 
Where the rod of his mitacles ? Where is om- Aaron ? Alas ! no voice from 
the burning bush has directed them here." 

" We must trample on the mandates of despotism, or remain slaves for- 
ever," [p. 322.] "You must drag the chains of Vhginian despotism, unless 
you discover some other mode of escape." " Those Western States which 
have been violent for this abominable war — those states which have thirsted 
for blood — God has given them blood to drink." [p. 323.] Mr. President, 
I can go no further. The records of the day are full of such sentiments, 
issued from the press, spoken in public assemblies, pom-ed out from the sacred 
desk. God forbid, sir, that I should charge the people of Massachusetts with 
participating in these sentiments. The south and the west had there their 
friends — men who stood by their coimtry, though encompassed all around 
by their enemies. The senator from Masschusetts [Mr. Silsbee] was one of 
them : the senator from Connecticut [Mr. Foot] was another; and there are 
othei-s now on this floor. The sentiments I have read were the sentiments 
of a party embracing the political associates of the gentleman from Massachu- 
setts. If they coidd only be found m the columns of a newspaper, in a few 
occasional pamphlets, issued by men of intemperate feeling, I should not con- 
sider them as afibrding any evidence of the opinions even of the peace party 
of New England. But, sir, they were the common language of that day; 
they pervaded the whole land ; they were issued from the legislative hall, 
from the pulpit, and the press. Om- books are full of them ; and there is no 
ftian who now hears me but knows that they were the sentiments of a party, 
by whoso raembera they were promulgated. Indeed, no evidence of this 
would seem to be required beyond the fact that such sentiments found their 
way even into tli« pulpits of New England. What must be the state of pub- 
lic opinion, where any respectable clergyman would venture to preach, and 
to print, sermons containing the sentiments I have quoted ? I doubt not the 
piety or moral worth of these gentlemen^ I am told they were- respectable 
and pious men. But they were men, and they " kindled in a common blaze." 
And now, sir, I must be suflfered to remark that, at Ais awful and melancholy 
period of our national history, the gentleman from Massachusetts, who now 
manifests so great a devotion to the Union, and so much anxiety lest it 



160 

should be endangered from the south, was " with his brother in Israel.'' He 
saw all these things passiug before his eyes — he heard these sentiments 
uttered all around him. I do not charge that gentleman Avith any partici- 
pation in these acts, or with approving of these sentiments. 

But I will ask, why, if he was animated by the same sentiments then which 
he now professes, if he can " augur disunion at a distance, and snuff up re- 
bellion in every tainted breeze," why did he not at that day, exert his great 
talents and acknowledged influence with the poUtical associates by whom he 
was suiTounded, and who then, as now, looked up to him for guidance and 
dii-ection, in allaying this general excitement, in pointing out to his deluded 
friends the value of the Union, in instmcting them that, instead of looking 
" to some prophet to lead them out of the land of Egypt," they should 
become reconciled to their brethren, and unite with them in the support of a 
just and necessary war ? Sir, the gentleman must excuse me for saying, that 
if the records of our country afforded any evidence that he had pursued such 
a course, then, if we could find it recorded in the history of those times, that 
like the immortal Dexter, he had breasted that mighty ton-ent which was 
sweeping before it all that was gi-eat and valuable in our poHtical institutions, 
if like iiim he had stood by his country in opposition to his party, sir, we 
would, like Httle children, listen to his precepts, and abide by his counsels. 

As soon as the public mind was sufficiently prepared for the measure, the 
celebrated Hartford Convention was got up ; not as the act of a few unauthor- 
ized individuals, but by authority of the legislature of Massachusetts ; and, as 
has been shown by the able historian of that convention, in accordance with 
the views and wishes of the party of which it was the organ. Now, sir, I do 
not desire to call in question the motives of the gentlemen who composed that 
assembly. I know many of them to be in private life accomplished and 
honorable men, and I doubt not there were some among them who did not 
perceive the dangerous tendency of their proceedings. I will even go further, 
and say, that if the authors of the Hai-tford Convention believed that " gross, 
deliberate, and palpable violations of the coiLstitution" had taken place, utterly 
destructive of their rights and interests, I should be the last man to deny their 
rights to resort to any constitutional measures for redress. But, sir, in any 
view of the case, the time when and the circumstances under which that con- 
vention assembled, as well as the measures recommended, render their con- 
duct, in my opinion, wholly indefensible. Let us contemplate, for a moment, 
the spectacle then exhibited to the view of the world. I will not go over the 
disasters of the war, nor describe the diflSculties in which the government was 
involved. It will be recollected that its credit was nearly gone, Washington 
had fallen, the whole coast was blockaded, and an immense force, collected in 
the West Indies, was about to make a descent, which it was supposed we had 
no means of resisting. In this awful state of our public aftaii-s, when the 
government seemed almost to be tottering on its base, when -Great Britain, 
relieved from all her other enemies, had proclaimed her purpose of " reducing 
us to unconditional submission," we beheld the peace party of New England 
(in the language of the work before us) pursuing a course calculated to do 
more injury to their country and to render England more effective service 
than all her armies." Those who could not find it in their hearts to rejoice 
at our victories sang Te Deum at the King's Chapel in Boston, for the restora- 
tion of the Bourbons. Those who could not consent to illuminate their dwell- 
ings for the capture of the Guerriere could gi\-e no visible tokens of their joy 
at the fall of Detroit. The " beacon fires" of their hills were lighted up, not 



161 

for the encouragement of tlieir friends, but as signals to the enemy; and in 
the gloomy hoiu-s of midnight, the very lights burned blue. Such were the 
dark and portentous signs of the times, -which ushered into being the renowned 
Hartford Convention. That convention met, and, from their proceedings, it 
appears that their chief object was to keep back the men and money of New 
England from the service' of the Union, and to effect radical changes in the 
government — changes that can never be effected without a dissolution of the 
Union. 

Let us now, sir, look at their proceedings. I read from "A Short Account 
of the Hartford Convention," (written by one of ita members,) a very rare 
book, of which I was fortunate enough, a few years ago, to obtain a copy. 
[Here Mr. H. read from the proceedings.*] 

It is unnecessary to trace the matter further, or to ask what would have 
been the next chapter in this history, if the measm-es recommended had been 
carried into effect; and it; with the men and money of New England withheld 



* It appears at p. 6 of the "Account " that, by a vote of the House of Representa- 
tives of Massachusetts, (260 to 290,) delegates to this convention were ordered to be 
appointed to consult upon the subject " of their public grievances and concerns," and 
upon " the best means of preserving their- resources," and for procuring a revision of 
the constitution of the United States, " more effectually to secure the support and at- 
tachment of all the people, bv placing all upon the basis of fair representation," 

The convention assembled at Hai-tford on the 15th December, 1814. On the next 

day it -was ■, , 

Resolved, That the most inviolable secrecy shall be observed by each member of 

this convention, including the secretary, as to all propositions, debates and proceedings 

thereof, until this injunction shall be suspended or altered. 

On the 24th uf December, the committee appointed to prepare and report a general 
project of such measures as may be proper for the convention to adopt, reported, 
among other things, — 

" 1. That it was expedient to recommend to the legislatures of the states the adop- 
tion of the most effectual and decisive measures to protect the mihtia of the states 
from the usurpations contained in these proceedings." [The proceedings of Congress 
and the executive, in relation to the militia and the war.] 

" 2. That it -svas expedient also to prepare a statement, exhibiting the necessity 
■w-hich the improvidence and inability of the general government have imposed upon 
the states of providing for their own defence, and the impossibility of their dis- 
charging this duty, and at the same time fulfilling the requisitions of the general 
government, and also to recommend to the legislatures of the several states to make 
provision for mutual defence, and to make an earnest application to the government 
of the United States, with a view to some arrangement whereby the states may be 
enabled to retain a portion of the taxes levied by Congress, for the purposes of self- 
defence, and for the reimbursement of expenses already incurred on account of the 
United States. , • i 

" 3. That it is expedient to recommend to the several state legislatures certain 
amendments to the constitution, viz., — , tt •* j ot v 

" That the power to declare or make war, by the Congress of the United btates, be 
restricted. . . ^ ... 

" That it is expedient to attempt to make provision for restraining Congress in tlie 
exercise of an unlimited liower to malie new states, and admit them into the Union. 
" That an amendment be proposed respecting slave representation and slave taxa- 
tion." . ^ , ,. 1 
On the 29th of December, 1814, it was proposed "that the capacity of naturalized 
citizens to hold offices of trust, honor, or profit ought to be restrained," &c. 

The subsequent proceedings are not given at large. But it seems that the report 
of the committee was adopted, and also a recommendation of certain measures (ol the 
character of which we are not informed) to the states for.their mutual defence ; and 
having voted that the injunction of secrecy, in regard to all the debates and proceed- 
ings of the convention, (except so far as relates to the report finally adopted,) be con- 
tinued, the convention adjourned sine dU, but, as it was supposed, to meet again when 
circumstances should require it. 

11 



163 

from the government of the United States, she had been withdi-aAvn from the 
wai" ; if New Orleans had fallen into the hands of the enemy ; and if, without 
troops and almost destitute of money, the Southern and the Western States 
had been thrown upon their own resources, for the prosecution of the Avar, 
and the recovery of New Orleans. 

Sir, whatever may have been the issue of the contest, the Union must have 
been dissolved. But a wise and just Providence, which "shapes our ends, 
roughhew them as we will," gave us the victory, and crowned om- eftbi-ts with 
a glorious peace. The amb;issadors of Hartford were seen retracing their 
steps from Washington, " the bearers of the glad tichngs of great joy." Corn- 
age and patriotism triumphed — the country was saved — the Union wasj^re- 
served. And are we, Mi\ President, Avho stood by our countiy then, who 
thi-evv open our coflers, who bai-ed om bosoms, who freely perilled aU in that 
conflict, to be reproached with want of attachment to the Union ? If, sir, we 
are to have lessons of patriotism read to us, they must come from a different 
quarter. The senator from Massachusetts, who is now so eensitive on all sub- 
jects connected with the Union, seems to have a memory forgetful of the 
pohtical events that have passed away. I must therefore refresh his recollec- 
tion a little further on these subjects. The history of disunion has been writ- 
ten by one whose authority stands too high with the American people to be 
questioned; I mean Thomas Jefferson. I know not how the gentleman may 
receive this authority. When that gTcat and good man occupied the presi- 
dential chair, I believe he commanded no portion of the gentleman's respect. 

I hold in my hand a celebrated pamphlet on the embargo, in which 
language is held, in relation to Mr. Jefferson, which my respect for his mem- 
ory will prevent me from reading, unless any gentleman shoidd call for it. 
But the senator from Massachusetts has since joined in singing hosannas to 
his name ; he has assisted at his apotheosis, and has fixed him as " a brilliant 
star in the clear upper sky." I hope, therefore, he is now prepared to receive 
with deference and respect the high authority of Mr. Jeffei-son. In the fourth 
A'olume of his Memoirs, which has just been issued from the press, we have the 
folloAving history of disunion from the pen of that illustrious statesman : " Mr. 
Adams called on me pending the embargo, and while endeavoi-s were making 
to obtain its repeal : he spoke of the dissatisfaction of the eastern portion of 
our confederacy with the restraints of the embargo then existing, and their 
restlessness under it ; that there was nothing which might not be attempted 
to rid themselves of it ; that he had information of the most unquestionable 
authority, that certain citizens of the Eastern States (I think he named Mas- 
sachusetts particularly) were in negotiation with agents of the Biitish govern- 
ment, the object of Avhich was an agreement that the New England States 
should take no further part in the war (the commercial war, the ' war of re- 
strictions,' as it was called) then going on, and that, without formally declaring 
their separation from the Union, they should withdraw from all aid and obe- 
dience to them, &c. From that moment," says Mr. J., " I saw the necessity 
of abandoning it, [the embargo,] and, instead of effecting our purpose by this 
peaceful measure, we nnist fight it out or break the Union." In another letter, 
Mr. Jefferson adds, " I doubt whether a single fact known to the world will 
carry as clear conviction -to it of the correctness of our knowledge of the trea- 
sonable views of the federal party of tliat day, as that disclosed by this the 
most nefarious and daring attempt to dissever the Union, of which the Hart- 
ford Convention was a subsequent chapter ; and both of these having failed, 
consohdation becomes the fourth chapter of the next book of their history. 



163 

But this opens with a vast accession of strength, from their younger recruits, 
who, having nothing in them of the feehngs and principles of '76, now look 
to a single and splendid government, &c., riding and ruling over the plundered 
ploughman and beggared yeomanry." (Vol. iv. pp. 419, 422.) 

The last chapter, says Mr. Jefferson, of that history, is to be found in tlie 
conduct of those who are endeavoring to bring about consolidation; aye, sir, 
that very consolidation for which the gentleman from Massachusetts is con- 
tending — the exercise by the federal government of powers not delegated in 
relation to " internal improvements" and "the protection of manufactures." 
And why, sir, does Mr. JefFereon consider consolidation as leading directly to 
disunion ? Because he knew that the exercise, by the federal government, of 
the powers contended for, would make this " a government without limitation 
of powers," the submission to which he considered as a greater evil than dis- 
union itself. There is one chapter in this history, however, which Mr. Jeffer- 
son has not filled up ; and I must therefore supply the deficiency. It is to be 
found in the protests made by New England against the acquisition of Louis- 
iana. In relation to that subject, the New England doctrine is thus laid down 
by one of her learned doctors of that day, now a doctor of laws, at the head 
of the great literary institution of the east ; I mean Josiah Quincy, president 
of Harvard College. I quote from the speech delivered by that gentleman 
on the floor of Congress, on the occasion of the admission of Louisiana into 
the Union. 

" Ml'. Quincy repeated and justified a remark he had made, which, 'to save 
all misapprehension, he had committed to writing in the following words : If 
this bill passfs, it is my deliberate opinion that it is virtually a dissolution of 
the Union ; that it will free the States from their moral obligation ; and as it 
will be the right of all, so it will be the duty of some, to prepare for a sepa- 
ration, amicably if they can, violently if they must." 

Mr. President, I wish it to be distinctly understood, that all the remarks I 
have made on this subject ai-e intended to be exclusively applied to a party, 
which I have described as the " peace party of New England " — embracing 
the political associates of the senator from ^Massachusetts — a party which 
conti'olled the operations of that state during the embargo and the war, and 
who are justly chargeable with all the measures I have rej^robated. Sir, 
nothing has been further from my thoughts than to impeach the character or 
conduct of the people of New England. For their steady habits and hardy- 
virtues I trust I entertain a becoming respect. I fully subscribe to the truth 
of the description given before the revolution, by one whose praise is the liigh- 
est eulogy, " that the pei-severance of Holland, the activity of France, and the 
dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterpi-ise, have been more than 
equalled by this recent people." Hardy, enterprising, sagacious, industrious, 
and moral, the people of New Eng'land of the present day are worthy of iheir 
ancestoi-s. Still less, Mr. President, has it been my intention to say anything 
that could be construed into a want of respect for that party, who, ti'ampling 
on all naiTow, sectional feeling, have been true to their principles in the worst 
of times; I mean the democracy of New EnglancL 

Sir, I will declare that, highly as I appreciate the democracy of the south, 
I consider even higher praise to be duo to the democracy of New England, 
who have maintained their principles " through good add through evil report," 
who, at every period of our national history, have stood up manfully for "their 
country, their whole country, and nothing but their country." In the great 
political revolution of 'G8, they were found united with the democracy of the 



1G4 

south, mai'ching under the banner of tho constitution, led on by the patriarcli 
of liberty, in search of the laud of political promise, which they lived not only 
to behold, but to possess and to enjoy. Again, siv, in the darkest and most 
gloomy period of the war, when our country stood single-handed against " the 
conqueror of the conqueroi-s of the world," when all about and around them 
was dark and dreary, disastrous and discouraging, they stood a Spartan band 
in that narrow pass, where the honor of their country was to be defended, or 
to lind its grave. And in the last great struggle, in\'olving, as we believe, the 
very existence of the principle of popular sovereignty, where were the demo- 
cracy of New England ? Where they always have been found, sir, struggling 
side by side, with their brethren of the south and the west, for popular rights, 
and assisting in that glorious triumph, by which the man of the people was 
elevated to the highest office in their gift. 

Who, then, Mr. President, are the true friends of the Union ? Those who 
would confine the federal government strictly within the limits prescribed by 
the constitution ; who would preserve to the states and the people all powers 
not expressly delegated ; who would make this a federal and not a national 
Union, and who, administering the government in a spirit of equal justice, 
would make it a blessing, and not a curse. And who are its enemies ? Those 
who are in favor of consolidation ; who are constantly stealing power from the 
states, and adding strength to the federal goveniment ; who, assuming an un- 
warrantable jurisdiction over the states and the people, undertake to regulate 
the whole industry and capital of the country. But, sir, of all descriptions 
of men, I consider those as the worst enemies of the Union, who sacrifice tlie 
equal rights which belong to every member of the confederacy to combina- 
tions of "interested majorities, for personal or political objects. But the gentle- 
man apprehends no evil from the dependence of the states on the federal 
government ; he can see no danger of corruption fi'om the influence of money 
or of patronage. Sir, I know that it is supposed to be a wise saying that 
"patronage is a source of weakness;" and in support of that maxim, it has 
been said, that " every ten appointments make a huncbed enemies." But I 
am rather inclined to think, with the eloquent and sagacious orator now repo- 
sing on his laurels on the banks of the Roanoke, that "the power of confer- 
ling favors creates a crowd of dependants ; " he gave a forcible illustration of 
the truth of the remark, when he told us of the eftect of holding up the savory 
morsel to the eager eyes of the hungry hounds gathered around his door. It 
mattered not whether tho gift was bestowed on Towzer or Sweetlips, " Tray, 
Blanch, or Sweetheart;" while held in suspense, they were all governed by a 
nod, and when the morsel was bestowed, - the expectation of the favoi'S of to- 
morrow kept up tho subjection of to-day. 

The senator from Massachusetts, in denouncing ^^'hat he is pleased to call 
tlio Carolina doctrine, has attempted to throw ridicule upon tho_ idea that a 
state has any constitution jd remedy, by the exercise of its sovereign authority, 
against "a gross, palpable, and deliberate! violation of the constitution." He 
calls it " an idle " or " a ridiculous notion," or something to that eftect, and 
added, that it would make the Union a " mere rope of sand." _ Now, sir, as 
the gentleman has not condescended to enter into any examination of the 
question, and has been satisfied with throwing the weight of his authority 
into the scale, I do not deem it necessary to do more than to throw into the 
opposite scale the authority on which South Carolina relics; and thci-e, for the 
present, I am perfectly willing to leave the controvei-sy. The South Carolina 
doctrine, that is to say, tho doctrine contained in an exposition reported by a 



165 

committee of the legislature in December, 1828, and published^ by their 
authority, is the good old republican doctrine of '98 — the doctrine of the 
celebrated "Virginia Resolutions" of that yeai-, and of "Madison's Report" 
of '99. It will be recollected that the legislature of Virginia, in December, 
'98, took into consideration the alien and sedition laAvs, then considered by all 
republicans as a gross violation of the constitution of the United States, and 
on that day passed, among others, the following resolutions : — 

" The General Assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily declare, that it 
views the powers of the federal government, as resulting from the compact to 
which the states are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of the 
- instrument constituting that compact, as no fmiher valid than they are author- 
ized by the grants enumerated in that compact; and that in case of a delibe- 
rate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of other powers not granted by the said 
compact, the states who are parties thereto have the right, and are in ^ duty 
bound, to interpose for arresting the progress of the evil, and for maintaining, 
within then- respective limits, the authorities, rights, and liberties appertaining 
to them." . . 

In addition to the above resolution, the General Assembly of Virginia 
« appealed to the other states, in the confidence that they would concur with 
that commonwealth, that the acts aforesaid [the alien and sedition laws] are 
unconstitutional, and that the necessary and proper measures would be taken 
by each for co-operating with Virginia in maintaining unimpaired the author- 
ities, rights, and Uberties reserved to the states respectively, or to the people." 
The legislatures of several of the New England States, having, contrary to 
the exi^ectation of the legislature of Virginia, expressed their dissent from 
these doctrines, the subject came up again for consideration during the session 
of 1799, 1800, when it was referred to a select committee, by whom wns 
made that celebrated report which is famiUarly known as " Madison's Report," 
and which deserves to last as long as the constitution itself. In that report, 
which was subsequently adopted by the legislature, the whole subject wasde- 
liberately re-examined, and the objections urged against the Virginia doctrines 
carefully considered. The result was, that the legislature of Virginia re-afSrmed 
all the principles laid down in the resolutions of 1798, and issued to the world 
that admirable report which has stamped the character of Mr. Madison as 
the presenter of that constitution which he had contributed so largely to create 
and establish. I will here quote from Mr. Madison's report one or two passa- 
ges which bear more immediately on the point in controvei-sy. "The resolu- 
tioas, having taken this view of the federal compact, proceed to infer 'that in 
case of a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of other powers, not 
granted by the said compact, the states who are parties thereto have the right, 
and are in duty bound, to interpose for an-esting the progress of the evil, and 
for maintaining, within their respective limits, the authorities, rights, and lib- 
erties appertaining to them.' " 

" It appears to your committee to be a plain principle, founded in common 
sense, illustrated by common practice, and essential to the nature of compacts, 
that, where resort can be had to no tribunal superior to the authority of the 
parties, the parties themselves must be the rightful judges in the last resort, 
whether the bargain made has been pursued or violated. The constitution of 
the United States Avas formed by the sanction of the states, given by each in 
its sovereign capacity. It adds to the stability and dignity, as well as to the 
authority, of the constitution, that it rests upon this legitimate and solid foimd- 
ation. The states, then, being the parties to the constitutional compact, and 



166 

in their sovereign capacity, it follows of necessity that there can be no tribunal 
above their authority, to decide, in the last resort, whether the compact made 
by them be violated, and consequently that, iis the parties to it, they miist 
themselves decide, in the last resort, such questions as may be of sufficient 
magnitude to require their interposition." 

" The resolution has guarded against any misapprehension of its object by 
expressly requiring for such an interposition ' the case of a deliberate, palpable, 
and dangerous breach of the constitution, by the exercise of powers not granted 
by it.' It must be a case, not of a light and transient nature, but of a nature 
dangerous to the great purposes for wliich the constitution was established. 

" But the resolution has done more than guard against misconstruction, by 
expressly referring to cases of a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous nature. It 
specifies the object of the interposition, which it contemplates, to be solely 
that of arresting the progress of the evil of usurpation, and of maintaining the 
authorities, rights, and liberties appertaining to the states, as parties to the 
constitution. 

" From this view of the resolution, it would seem inconceivable that it can 
incur any just disapprobation from those who, laying aside all momentary 
impressions, and recollecting the genuine source and object of the federal 
constitution, shall candidly and accurately interpret the meaning of the Gen- 
eral Assembly, If the dehberate exercise of dangerous powers, palpably 
withheld by the constitution, could not justify the parties to it in interposing 
even so far as to arrest the progress of the evil, and thereby to preserve the 
constitution itself, as well as to provide for the safety of the parties to it, there 
would be an end to all relief from usurped power, and a direct subversion of 
the rights specified or recognized under all the state constitutions, as well as 
a plain denial of the fundamental principles on which our independence itself 
was declared." 

But, sir, our authorities do not stop here. The state of Kentucky responded 
to Virginia, and on the '10th November, 1798, adopted those celebrated reso- 
lutions, well known to have been penned by the author of the Declaration 
of Amei-ican Independence. In those resolutions, the legislature of Kentucky 
declare, "that the government created by this compact was not made the ex- 
clusive or final judge of the extent of the powers delegated to itself, since that 
would have made its discretion, and not the constitution, the measure of its 
powers; but that, as in all other cases of compact among parties having no 
common judge, each party has an equal right to judge, for itself, as well of 
infractions as of the mode and measure of redress." 

At the ensuing session of the legislature, the subject was re-examined, and 
on the 14th of November, 1799, the resolutions of the preceding year were 
deliberately re-affirmed, and it was, among other things, solemnly declared,^ 
" That, if those who administer the general govei-nment be permitted to 
transgress the limits fixed by that compact, by a total disregard to the special 
delegations of power therein contained, an anniliilation of the state govern- 
ments, and the erection upon their ruins of a general consolidated govern- 
ment, will be the inevitable consequ-ence. That the principles of constmction 
contended for by sundry of the state legislatures, that the' genei-al government 
is the exclusive judge of the extent of the powers delegated to it, stop nothing 
short of despotism ; since the discretion of thase who administer the govern- 
ment, and not the constitution, would be the measure of their powers. That 
tte several states who farmed that instrument, being sovereign and independ- 
ent, have the unquestionable right to judge of its infraction, and that a nub 



167 

lification, by those sovereignties, of all unauthorized acts done under color of 
that instrument, is the rightful remedy." 

Time and experience confirmed Mr. Jefferson's opinion on this all important 
point. In the year 1821, he exj^ressed himself in this era})hatic manner: " It 
is a fatal heresy to suppose that either our state governments are superior to 
the federal, or the federal to the state; neither is authorized literally to decide 
Avhich belongs to itself or its copartner in government ; in difierences of opinion, 
between their difl'erent sets of public servants, the appeal is to neither, but to 
their employere peaceably assembled by their representatives in convention." 

The opinion of Mr. Jetferson on this subject has been so repeatedly and so 
solemnly expressed, that they may be said to have been among the most fixed 
and settled convictions of his mind. 

In the protest prepared by him for the legislature of Virginia, in December, 
1825, in respect to the powers exercised by the federal government in relation 
to the tariff" and internal improvements, which he declares to be " usurpations 
of the powers retained by the states, mere interpolations into the compact, 
and direct infractions of it," he solemnly reasserts all the principles of the 
Virginia Resolutions of '98, protests against " these acts of the federal branch 
of the government as null and void, and delares that, although Virginia would 
consider a dissolution of the Union as among the greatest calamities that could 
befall them, yet it is not the greatest. There is one yet gi-eater — submission 
to a government of unhmited powers. It is only when the hope of this shall 
become absolutely desperate, that further forbearance could not be indulged." 

In his letter to Mr. Giles, written about the same time, he says, — 

" I see as you do, and with the deepest affliction, the rapid strides with 
which the federal branch of our government is advancing towards the usur- 
pation of all the rights reserved to the states, and the consolidation in itself 
of all powers, foreign and domestic, and that too by constructions which leave 
no limits to their powers, &c. Under the power to regulate commerce, they 
assume, indefinitely, that also over agriculture and manufactures, &c. Under 
the authority to establish post roads, they clama that of cutting down moun- 
tains for the construction of roads, and digging canals, &c. And what is our 
resource for the preservation of the constitution? Reason and argument? 
You might as well reason and argue with the marble columns encirchng them, 
&c. Are we then to stand to our arms with the hot-headed Georgian ? No ; 
[and I say no, and South Carohna has said no ;] that must be the last re- 
source. We must have patience and long endurance with our brethren, &c., 
and separate from our companions only when the sole alternatives left are 
a dissolution of our Union with them, or submission to a government without 
Hmitation of powers. Between these two evils, when we must make a choice, 
there can be no hesitation." 

Such, sir, are the high and imposing authorities in support of " the Caro- 
lina doctrine," which is, in fact, the doctrine of the Vii-ginia Resolutions of 

1V98. , . . _ 

Sir, at that day the whole country was divided on this very question. It 
formed the Ime of demarcation between the federal and republican parties; 
and the great political revolution which then took place turned upon the very 
questions involved in these resolutions. That question was decided by the 
people, and by that decision the constitution was, in the emphatic language 
of Mr. Jefferson, " saved at its last gasp." I should suppose, sir, it woidd i-e- 
Quhe more self-respect than any gentleman here would be willing to assume, 
to treat lightly doctrines derived from such high resources. Resting on 



1G8 

.-mthority like this, I will ask gentlemen whether South Carolina has nc. 
manifested a high regard for the Union, when, under a tyranny ten times more 
grievous than the ahen and sedition laws, she has hitherto gone no further 
than to petition, remonstrate, and to solemnly protest against a series of 
measures which she believes to be wholly unconstitutional and utterly 
destructive of her interests. Sir, South Carohna has not gone one step further 
than Mr. Jefferson himself was disposed to go, in relation to the present sub- 
ject of our present complaints — not a step further than the statesmen from 
New England were disposed to go, under similar circumstances ; no fuither 
than the senator from Slassachusetts himself once considered as within " the 
limits of a constitutional opposition." The doctrine that it is the right of a 
state to judge of the violations of the constitution on the part of the federal 
government, and to protect her citizens fi-om the operations of unconstitutional 
laws, was held by the enlightened citizens of Boston, who assembled in 
Faneuil Hall, on the 25th of January, 1809. They state, in that cele- 
brated memorial, that " they looked only to the state legislature, who were 
competent to devise relief against the unconstitutional acts of the general 
government. That your power (say they) is adequate to that object, is evi- 
dent from the organization of the confederacy." 

A distinguished senator from one of the New England States, (Mr. Hill- 
house,) in a speech delivered here, on a bill for enforcing the embargo, de- 
clared, " I feel myself bound in conscience to declare, (lest the blood of those 
who shall fall in the execution of this measure shall be on my head,) that I con- 
sider this to be an act which directs a mortal blow at the liberties of my 
country — an act containing unconstitutional pro\isions, to which the people 
are not bound to submit, and to which, in my ophiion, they will not submit." 

And the senator from Massachusetts himself, in a speech delivered on the 
same subject in the other house, said, " This opposition is constitutional and 
legal; it is also conscientious. It rests on settled and sober conviction, that 
such policy is destructive to the interests of the people, and dangerous to the 
being of government. The experience of every day confirms these sentiments. 
Men who act from such motives are not to be discouraged by trifling obstacles, 
nor awed by any dangers. They know the limit of constitutional opposition ; 
up to that linait, at their own discretion, they will walk, and walk fearlessly." 
How ^'tho being of the government" was to be endangered by " constitutional 
opposition" to the embargo, I leave to the gentleman to explain. 

Thus it will bo seen, Mr. President, that the South Carolina doctrine is the 
repubhcan doctrme of '98 — that it was promulgated by the fathers of the 
faith — that it was ruaintained by Vii-ginia and Kentucky in the worst of 
times — that it constituted the very pivot on which the political revolution 
of that day turned — that it embraces the very principles, the triumph of 
which, at that time, saved the constitution at its last gasp, and which New 
England statesmen were not unwilling to adopt, when they believed them- 
selves to be the victims of unconstitutional legislation. Sii-, as to the doctrine 
that the federal govenmient is the exclusive judge of the extent as well as the 
limitations of its powers, it seems to me to be utterly subversive of the 
sovereignty and independence of the states. It makes but httle difference,' 
in my estimation, whether Congress or the Supremo Court are invested with 
this power. If the federal government, in all, or any of its departments, is to 
prescribe the limits of its own authority, and the states are bound to submit 
to the decision, and are not to be allowed to examine and decide for them- 
selves, when the barriera of the constitution shall be overieaped, this is practi- 



169 

cally " a government without limitation of powers." Tlie states are at onoo 
reduced to mere petty corporations, and tlie people are entu-ely at your mercy. 
I have but one more word to add. In all the eftbrts that have been made 
by South Carohna to resist the unconstitutional laws which Congress has ex- 
tended over them, she has kejit steadily in view the preservation of the Union, 
by the only means by which she believes it can be long preser\-ed — a finri, 
manly, and steady resistance against usurpation. The measures of the federal 
government have, it is true, prostrated her interests, and wUl soon involve the 
s hole south in irretrievable ruin. But even this evil, great as it is, is not the 
chief ground of our complaints. It is the principle involved in the contest — 
a principle which, substituting tlie discretion of Congress for the limitations 
of the constitution, brings the states and the people to the feet of the federal 
government, and leaves them nothing they can call their own. Sir, if the 
measm-es of the federal government were less oppressive, we should still strive 
against this usurpation. The south is acting on a principle she has always 
held sacred — resistance to unauthorized t^ation. These, sh, ai'e the princi- 
ples which induced the immortal Hampden to resist the payment of a tax of 
twenty shillings. Would twenty shillings have ruined his fortune ? No ! 
but the payment of half twenty shillings, on the principle on which it was 
demanded, would have made him a slave. Sh, if acting on these high motives 
— if animated by that ardent love of liberty which has always been the most 
prominent trait in the southern character — we should be hurried beyond the 
bounds of a cold and calculating prudence, who is there, with one noble and 
generous sentiment in his bosom, that would not be disposed, in the language 
of Burke, to exclaim, " You must pardon something to the spiiit of hbei-ty" ? 



REPLY TO HAYNE, 

DELIVEEED IN SENATE, JANUAEY 26, 1830. 

Following Ih-. Hayne in the debate, Mr. WEBSTER addressed the 
Senate as follows : — 

Mr. President : Wlien the mariner has been tossed, for many days, in 
thick weather, and on an unknown sea, he natm-ally avails himself of the first 
pause in the stoi-m, the earUest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and as- 
certain how far the elements have driven him from his true course. _ Let us 
imitate this pradence, and before we float farther, refer to the point from 
■which we departed, that we may at least be able to conjecture where we now 
are. I ask for the reading of the resolution. 

[The Secretary read the resolution as follows : 

" Resolved, That the committee on pubhc lands be instmcted to inquii-e 
and report the quantity of the public lands remaining unsold within each state 
and teri-itoiy, and whether it be expedient to hmit, for a certain period, the 
sales of the pubhc lands to such lands only as have heretofore been offered 
for sale, and are now subject to entiy at the minimum price. And, also, 
whether the oflSce of surveyor general, and some of the land offices, may not 
be abolished without detriment to the pubhc interest; or whether it be ex- 
pedient to adopt measures to hasten the sales, and extend more rapidly the 
suiTeys of the pubhc lands."] 

We have thus heard, sir, what the resolution is, which is actually before us 
for consideration; and it will readily occur to every one that it is almost the 
only subject about which something has not been said in the speech, i-unnmg 
through two days, by which the Senate has been now entertained by the gen- 
tleman from South Carohna. Every topic m the wide range of our pubhc 
affairs, whether past or present, — every thing, gene-al or local, whether be- 
longing to national politics or party pohtics, — seems to have attracted more 
or less°of the honorable membei-'s attention, save only the resolution before 
us. He has spoken of every thing but the pubhc lands. They have escaped 
his notice. To that subject, in all his excm-sions, he has not paid even the 
cold- respect of a passing glance. 

When this debate, sir, was to be resumed, on Thursday morning, it so hap- 
pened that it would have been convenient for me to be elsewhere. The hon- 
orable member, however did not incline to put off the discussion to another 
dav. He had a shot, he said, to return, and he wished to discharge it. That 
shot, sir, which it was kind thus to inform us was coming, tliat Ave might stand 
out of the way, or prepare oui-selves to fall before it, and die with decency, 



172 

has now been received. Under all advantages, and with expectation awakened 
by the tone which preceded it, it has been discharged, and has spent its force. 
It may become me lo say no more of its effect than that, if nobody is found, 
after all, either killed or wounded by it, it is not the fii-st time in the history 
of himaan affairs that the vigor and success of the war have not quite come 
up to the lofty and sounding phrase of the manifesto. 

The gentleman, su-, in declming to postpone the debate, told the Senate, 
with the emphasis of his hand upon his heart, that there was something 
rankhng here, which he wished to reheve, [Mr. Hayne rose and disclaimed 
having used the word rankling!\ It would not, Mr. President, be safe for the 
honorable member to appeal to those around him, upon the question Avhether 
he did, in fact, make use of that word. But he may have been unconscious 
of it. At any rate, it is enough that he disclaims it. But stUl, with or with- 
out the use of that particular word, he had yet something here., he said, of 
which he wished to rid himself by an immediate reply. In this respect, sh, 
I have a great advantage over the honorable gentleman. There is nothing 
here, sh, which gives me the slighest uneasiness ; neither fear, nor anger, nor 
that which is sometimes more troublesome than either, the consciousness of 
having been in the wi-ong. There is nothing either originating here, or now 
received here, by the gentleman's shot. Nothing original, for I had not the 
sHghtest feeling of disrespect or unkindness towards the honorable member. 
Some passages, it is true, had occun-ed, since our acquaintance in this body, 
which I could have wished might have been otherwise ; but I had used phil- 
osophy, aud forgotten them. When the honorable member rose, in his first 
speech, I paid bim the respect of attentive hstening ; and when he sat do^vn, 
though smprised, and I must say even astonished, at some of his opinions, 
nothing was farther from my intention than to commence any pereonal war- 
fare ; and through the whole of the few remarks I made in answer, I avoided, 
studiously and cai-efiilly, every thing which I thought possible to be construed 
into disrespect. And, sir, while there is thus nothing originating here, which 
I wished at any time, or now wish to discharge, I must repeat, also, that 
nothing has been received here which raiiMes, or in any way gives me an- 
noyance. I will not accuse the honorable member of violating the niles of 
civilized war — I will not say that he poisoned his an-ows. But whether his 
shafts were, or were not, dipped in that which would have caused rankling if 
they had reached, there was not, as it happened, quite strength enough in the 
bow to bring them to then- mark. If he wishes now to find those sbstfts, he 
must look for them elsewhei-e; they will not be found fixed and quivering in 
the object at which they were aimed. 

The honorable member complained that I had slept on his speech. I must 
have slept on it, or not slept at all. The moment the honorable member sat 
down, his friend from Missouri rose, and, with much honeyed commendation 
of the speech, suggested that the impressions which it had produced were too 
charming and delightful to be disturbed by other sentiments or other somids, 
and proposed that the Senate should adjom-n. Would it have been quite 
amiable in me, sh, to inteiTupt this excellent good feeling ? Must I not have 
been absolutely malicioup, if I could have thrust myself forward to destroy 
eensations thus pleasing ? Was it not much better and kinder, both to sleep 
upon them myself, and to allow othei-s, also, the pleasure of slee])ing upon 
them ? But if it be meant, by sleeping upon his speech, that I took time to 
prepare a reply to it, it is quite a mistake ; owing to other engagements, I could 
not employ even the interval between the adjom-nment of the Senate and 



^1^ 

its meeting the next morning in attention to the subject of thjs debate. 
Neverthless, sir, the mere matter of fact is undoubtedly tiue — I did sleep 
on the gentleman's speech, and slept soundly. And I slept equally well on 
his speech of yesterday, to which I am now replying. It is quite possible 
that, in this respect, also, I possess some advantage over the honorable mem 
ber, attributable, doubtless, to a cooler temperament on my part ; for in tmth 
I slept upon his speeches remarkably well. But the gentleman inquires why 
he was made the object of such a reply. "Why was he singled out ? If an 
attack had been made on the east, he, he assures us, did not begin it — it was 
the gentleman from Missouri. Sir, I answered the gentleman's speech, because 
I happened to hear it ; and because, also, I choose to give an answer to that 
speech, which, if unanswered, I thought most likely to produce injurious im- 
pressions. I did not stop to inquire who was the original drawer of the bill. 
I foimd a responsible endoi-ser before me, and it was my purpose to hold him 
hable, and to bring hun to his just responsibility without delay. But, sir, 
this interrogatory of the honorable member was only introductory to another. 
He proceeded to ask me whether I had turned upon him in this debate from 
the consciousness that I should find an overmatch if I ventured on a' contest 
with his friend from Missouri. If, sii-, the honorable member, ex gratia 
modesties, had chosen thus to defer to his friend, and to pay him a compli- 
ment, without intentional disparagement to others, it would have been quite 
according to the friendly courtesies of debate, and not at all ungi-ateful to my 
owTi feelings. I am not one of those, sir, who esteem any tribute of regai-d, 
whether Light and occasional, or more serious and deliberate, which may be 
bestowed on others, as so much unjustly withholden from themselves. Bnt 
the tone and manner of the gentleman's question, forbid me thus to interpret 
it. I am not at hberty to consider it as nothing more than a civility to his 
friend. It had an hu- of taunt and disparagement, a httle of the loftiness of 
asserted superiority, which does not allow me to pass it over without notice. 
It was put as a question for me to answer, and so put as if it were difficult for 
me to answer, whether I deemed the member from Missouri an overmatch for 
myself in debate here. It seems to me, sir, that is extraordinary language, 
anid an extraordinary tone for the discussions of this body. 

Matches and overmatches! Those terms are more applicable elsewhere 
than here, and fitter for other assemblies than this. Sir, the gentleman seems 
to forget where and what we are. This is a Senate ; a Senate of equals ; of 
men of individual honor and personal character, and of absolute independence. 
We know no masters ; we acknowledge no dictatoi-s. This is a hall for mu- 
tual consultation and discuasion, not an arena for the exhibition of champions. 
I ofier myself, sir, as a match for no man ; I throw the challenge of debate at 
no man's feet. But, then, sir, since the honorable member has put the ques- 
tion in a manner that calls for an answer, I will give him an answer ; and I 
tell him that, holding myself to be the humblest of the membei-s here, I yet 
know nothing in the arm of his friend from Missouri, either alone or when 
aided by the arm of his friend from South Carolina, that need deter even me 
from espousing whatever opinions I may choose to espouse, from debating 
whenever I may choose to debate, or from speaking whatever I may see fit to 
say on the floor of the Senate. Sir, when uttered as matter of commendation 
or compliment, I should dissent from nothing which the honorable member 
might say of his friend. Still less do I put forth any pretensions of my own. 
But when put to me as matter of taunt, I throw it back, and say to the gen- 
tleman that he could possibly say nothing less likely than such a comparison 



174 

to wound my pride of personal character. The anger of its tone rescued fhe 
remark from intentional irony, whicli otherwise, probably, would have been its 
o-eneral acceptation. But, sir, if it be imagined that by this mutual quotation 
and commendation ; if it be supposed that, by casting the chai-acters of the 
drama, assigning to each his part, — to one the attack, to another the cry of 
onset, — or if it be thought that by a loud and empty vaunt of anticipated 
victory any laurels are to be won here; if it be imagined, especially, that any 
or all these things will shake any purpose of mine, I can tell the honorable 
member, once for all, that he is greatly mistaken, and that he is dealing with 
one of whose temper and character he has yet much to learn. Sir, I shall 
not allow myself, on this occasion — I hope on no occasion — to be betrayed 
into any loss of temper ; but if provoked, as I ti-ust I never shall allow myself 
to be, into crimination and recrimination, the honorable member may, perhaps, 
find that in that contest there will be blows to take as well as blows to give ; 
that others can state comparisons as significant, at least as his own ; and that 
his impunity may, perhaps, demand of him whatever powers of taunt and 
sarcasm he may possess. I commend him to a prudent husbandly of his 
resources. 

But, sir-, the coahtion ! The coahtion ! Aye, " the murdered coaUtion !" 
The gentleman asks if I were led or frighted into this debate by the specti'e 
of the coahtion. " Was it the ghost of the murdered coahtion," he exclaims, 
" which haunted the member from Massachusetts, and which, like the ghost 
of Banquo, would never down ?" " The mm-dered coalition !" Sir, this charge 
of a coaUtion, in reference to the late administration, is not original with the 
honorable member. It did not spring up in the Senate. Whether as a fact, 
as aai argument, or as an embellishment, it is all borrowed. He adopts it, in- 
deed, from a very low origin, and a still lower present condition. It is one of 
the thousand calumnies with which the press teemed during an excited politi- 
cal canvass. It was a charge of which there was not only no proof or proba- 
bility, but which was, in itself, wholly impossible to be true. No man of com- 
mon information ever believed a syUable of it. Yet it was of that class of 
falsehoods which, by continued repetition through all the organs of detraction 
and abuse, are capable of misleading those who are already far misled, and of 
further fanning passion already kindling into flame. Doubtloss it served its 
day, and, in a greater or less degree, the end designed by it. Having done 
that, it has sunk into the general mass of stale and loathed calumnies. It is 
the very cast-off slough of a poUuted and shameless press. Incapable of fur- 
ther mischief, it lies in the sewer, lifeless and despised. It is not now, sir, in 
the power of the honorable member to give it dignity or decency, by attempting 
to elevate it, and to introduce it into the Senate. Ho cannot change it from 
what it is — an object of general disgust and scorn. On the conti-ary, the 
contact, if he choose to touch it, is more hkely to drag him down, down, to the 
place where it lies itself. 

But, sir, the honorable member was not, for other reasons, entirely happy in 
his allusion to the story of Banquo's murder and Banquo's ghost. It was not, 
I think, the friends, but the enemies of the nnn-dered Banquo, at whoso bid- 
ding his spirit would not down. The honorable gentleman is fresh in his 
refuling of the English cla.ssics, and can put me right if I am wrong ; but ac- 
cording to my poor recollection, it was at those who had begun with ca;\^«$es, 
and ended with foul and treacherous murder, that the gory locks were shak' n. 
The ghost of Banquo, like that of Hamlet, was an honest ghost. It disturbt.-' ! 
no innocent man. It knew where its appeai-ance would itrike t-error, and who 



175 

vroiUd cry out, A gliost ! It made itself visible in the right quarter, and com- 
pelled the guilty, and the conscience-smitten, and none others, to start, with 

" Pritliee, see tberc ! behold! — look! lo ! 
If I stand here, I saw him !" 

Their eyeballs were seared — was it not so, sir? — who had thought to shield 
themselves by concealing their own hand, and laying the imputation of the 
crime on a low and hii-ehng agency in wickedness ; who had vainly attempted 
to stifle the workings of their own coward consciences, by circulating, through 
white hps and chattering teeth, " Thou canst not say I did it !" I \\s.\q mis^ 
read the great poet, if it was those who had no way partaken in the deed of 
the death, who either found that they were, or feared that they should be, 
pushed from their stools by the ghost of the slain, or who cried out to a spec- 
ti-e created by their own fears, and their- own remorse, " Avaunt ! and quit 
our sight !" 

There is another particular, sii-, in which the honorable member's quick 
perception of resemblances might, I should think, have seen something in the 
story of Banquo, making it not altogether a subject of the most pleasant con- 
templation. Those who mm-dered Banquo, what did they win by it ? Sub- 
stantial good? Pennanent power? Or disappointment, rather, and sore 
moi-tification — dust and ashes — the common fate of vaulting ambition 
overleaping itself? Did not even-handed justice, ere long, commend the 
poisoned chalice to their own lips ? Did they not soon find that for another 
they had " filed their mind ? " — that their ambition, though apparently for 
the moment successftd, had but put a barren sceptre in their grasp ? Aye, sir, — 

" A barren sceptre in their gripe, 

Thence to be wrenched by an unlineal hand, 

No son of theirs succeeding." 

Sir, I need pursue the allusion no further. I leave the honorable gentleman 
to mn it out at his leism-e, and to derive from it all the gratification it is cal- 
culated to administer. If he finds himself pleased with the associations, and 
prepared to be quite satisfied^ though the parallel should be entirely completed, 
I had almost said I am satisfied also — but that I shall think of. Yes, sir, T 
will think of that. 

In ^he course of my observations the other day, Mr. President, I paid a 
passing tribute of respect to a very worthy man, Mr. Dane, of Massachusetts. 
It so happened that he drew the ordinance of 1V87 for the government of 
the iN'orth-western Tenitory. A man of so much ability, and so little pretence ; 
of so great a capacity to do good, and so unmixed a disposition to do it for ita 
cwn sake ; a gentleman who acted an important part, forty yeare ago, in a 
measure the influence of which is still deeply felt in the very matter which 
was the subject of debate, might, I thought, receive from me a commendatory 
recognition. 

But the honorable gentleman was inclined to be facetious on the subject. 
He was rather disposed to make it a matter of ridicule that I had introduced 
into the debate the name of one Nathan Done, of whom he assures us he had 
never before heard. Sir, if the honorable member had never before heard of 
Mr. Dane, I am soriy for it. It shows him less acquainted with the public 
men of the contry than I had supposed. Let me tell him, however, that a 



176 

sneer from him at llie mention of tlie name of Mr. Dane is in bad taste. It 
may well be a high mark of ambition, sii-, either with the honorable gentleman 
or myself, to accomplish as much to make our names known to advantage, 
and remembered with gi-atitude, as Mr. Dane has accomplished. But the 
truth is, 6U', I suspect that ]^Ir. Dane hves a httle too far noiih. He is of 
Massachusette, and too near the north star to be reached by the honorable 
gentleman's telescope. If his sphere had happened to range south of Mason 
and Dixon's line, he might, probably, have come within the scope of his 
vision ! 

I spoke, sir, of the ordinance of 1787, which prohibited slavery in all fu- 
ture times north-west of the Ohio, as a measm-e of great wisdom and fore- 
sight, and one which had been attended with highly beneficial and permanent 
consequences. I supposed that on this point no two gentlemen in the Senate 
could entertain diflerent opinions. But the simple expression of this senti- 
ment has led the gentleman, not only into a labored defence of slavery in the 
abstract, and on principle, but also into a wai-m accusation against me, as 
having attacked the system of slavery now existing in the Southern States. 
For all this there was not the slightest foundation in any thing said or inti- 
mated by me. I did not utter a single word which any ingenuity conld 
torture into an attack on the slavery of the South. I said only that it was 
higlily wise and useful in legislating for the north-western country, while it 
was yet a wilderness, to prohibit the introduction of slaves; and added, that 
I presmned, in the neighboring state of Kentucky, there was no reflecting and 
intelligent gentleman who would doubt that, if the same prohibition had been 
extended, at the same early period, o\er that commonwealth, her strength and 
population would, at this day, have been fai" gi'eater than they are. If these 
opinions be thought doubtful, they are, nevertheless, I trust, neither extraordi- 
nary nor disi-espectfid. They attack nobody and menace nobody. And yet, 
8U', the gentleman's optics have discovered, even in the mere expression of this 
sentiment, what he caUs thfe very spirit of the Missouri question ! He repre- 
sents me as making an attack on the wholo south, and manifesting a spirit 
which would intefere with and disturb their domestic condition. Sii-, this in- 
justice no otherwise surpiises mo than as it is done here, and done without 
the slightest pretence of gi-ound for it. I say it only surprises me as being 
done here; for I know full well that it is and has been the settled policy of 
some persons in the south, for years, to represent the people of the north aa 
disposed to inteifere with them in their own exclusive and peculiar concerns. 
This is a delicate and sensitive point in southern feeling ; and of late years it 
has always been touched, and generally with effect, whenever the object has 
been to unite the whole south against northern men or northern measures. 
This feeling, always carefully kept ahve, and maintained at too intense a heat 
to admit discrimination or reflection, is a lever of great power in our political 
machine. It moves va.st bodies, and gives to them one and the same direc- 
tion. But the feeling is without adequate cause, and the suspicion which ex 
ists wholly groundless. There is not, and never has been, a disposition in the 
north to interfere with these interests of the south. Such interference has 
never been supposed to be within the power of government, nor has it been 
in any way attempted. It has always been rcgai'ded as a matter of domestic 
policy, left with the states themselves, and with which the federal government 
had nothing to do. Certainly, sir, I am, and ever had been, of that opinion. 
The gentleman, indeed, argues that slavery in the abstract is no evil. Most 
assuredly I need not say I differ with him altogether and most widely on that 



177 

point. I regard domestic slavery as one of tlie greatest of evils, both moral 
and political. But, though it be a malady, and whether it be curable, and if 
60, by -what means; or, on the other hand, whether it be the cuhins immedka- 
lile of the social system, I leave it to those whose right and duty it is to in- 
quire and to decide. And this I believe, sir, is, and uniformly has been, the 
sentiment of the north. Let us look a little at the histoiy of this matter. 

When the present constitution was submitted for the ratification of the peo- 
ple, there were those who imagined that the powers of the government which 
it proposed to establish might, perhaps, in some possible mode, be exerted in 
measures tending to the abolition of slavery. This suggestion would, of coui-se, 
attract much attention in the southern conventions. In that of Virginia, 
Governor Randolph said : — 

" I hope there is none here, who, considering the subject in the calm hght 
of philosophy, will make an objection dishonorable to Virginia -— that, at the 
moment they are securing the rights of their citizens, an objection is started, 
that there is a spark of hope that those unfortunate men now held in bondage 
may, by the operation of the general government, be made free." 

At the very fii-st Congress, petitions on the subject were presented, if 1 
mistake not, from different states. The Pennsylvania Society for promoting 
the Abolition of Slavery, took a lead, and laid before Congi-ess a memorial, 
praying Congress to promote the abolition by such powers as it possessed. 
This memorial was referred, in the House of Representatives, to a select com- 
mittee, consisting of Mr. Foster, of New Hampshire, Mr. Gerry, of Massachu- 
setts, Mr. Huntington, of Connecticut, Mr. La^TCuce, of New York, Mr. Dic- 
kinson, of New Jersey, Mr. Hartley, of Pennsjdvania, and Mr. Parker, of 
Virginia; all of them, sir, as you will obsene, northern men, but the last. 
This committee made a report, which was committed to a committee of the 
whole house, and there considered and discussed on several days; and being 
amended, although in no material respect, it was made to express three distinct 
propositions on the subjects of slavery and the slave trade. First, in the words 
of the constitution, that Congi-ess could not, prior to the year 1808, prohibit 
the migi-ation or impoi-tation of such persons as any of the states then existing 
6hould°think pi'oper to admit. Second, that Congress had authority to restrain 
the citizens of the United States from cairying on the African slave trade for 
the purpose of supplymg foreigTi countries. On this'proposition,^ our early 
laws agamst those who engage i^that traffic are founded. The third propo- 
sition, and that which beai-s on the present question, was expressed in the fol- 
lowing terms : — 

'' Resolved, That Congress have no authority to interfere in the emancipa- 
tion of slaves, or m the treatment of them in any of the states; it remaining 
with the several states alone to provide rules and regulations therein, which 
humanity and tme policy may require." 

This resolution received the sanction of the House of Representatives so 
early as March, 1790. And, now, sir, the honorable member will allow me 
to remmd him, that not only were the select committee who reported the re- 
solution, with a single exception, all northern men, but also that of the mem- 
bers then composing the House of Representatives, a large majority, I beUeve 
nearly two-thirds, were northern men also. 

The house agreed to insert these resolutions in its journal ; and, from that 
day to this, it has never been maintained or contended that Congress had any 
authority to regulate or inteifere with the condition of slaves in the several 
states. No northern gentleman, to my knowledge, has moved any such ques- 



tion in either house of Congress. 



12 



178 

The fears of the soutli, whatever feai-s they might have entertained, were 
allayed and quieted by this early decision ; and so remained, till they were 
excited afresh, without cause, but for collateral and indirect purposes. When 
it became necessary, or was thought so, by some political jjei-sons, to find an 
unvarying ground for the exclusion of northern men from confidence and 
from lead in the affaii-s of the republic, then, and not till then, the cry was 
raised, and the feehng industriously excited, that the influence of northern 
men in the public councils would endanger the relation of master and slave. 
For myself, I claim no other merit, than that this gi-oss and enormous injus- 
tice towards the whole north has not wrought upon me to change my opinions, 
or my political conduct. I hope I am above violating my principles, even 
under the smart of injury and false imputations. Unjust suspicions and un- 
deserved rejM'oach, whatever pain I may experience from them, will not induce 
me, I trust, nevertheless, to overstep the limits of constitutional dut}', or to 
encroach on the rights of others. The domestic slavery of the south I leave 
where I find it — in the hands of theh own governments. It is their aftair, 
not mine. Xor do 1 complain of the peculiar effect which the magnitude of 
that population has had in the distribution of power under this federal govern- 
ment. We know, sir, that the representation of the states in the other house 
is not equal. We know that great advantage, in that respect, is enjoyed by 
the slaveholding states ; and we know, too, that the intended equivalent for 
that advantage — that is to say, the imposition of direct taxes in the same 
ratio — 'has become merely nominal ; the habit of the government being al- 
most invariably to collect its revenues from other som-ces, and in other modes. 
Nevertheless, I do not complain ; nor would I countenance any movement to 
alter this arrangement of representation. It is the original bargain, the com- 
pact — let it stand ; let the advantage of it be fully enjoyed. The Union 
itself is too full of benefit to be hazarded in propositions for changing its 
original basis. I go for the constitution as it is, and for the Union as it is. 
But I am resolved not to submit, in silence, to accusations, either against my- 
self individually, or against the north, wholly unfounded and unjust — accu- 
sations nvhich impute to us a disposition to evade the constitutional compact, 
and to exteud the power of the government over the internal laws and domes- 
tic condition of the states. All such accusations, wherever and whenever 
made, all insinuations of the existence of any such purposes, I know and feel 
to be groundless and injurious. And we must confide in southern gentlemen 
themselves; wo must trust to those whose int(^Tity of heart and magnanimity 
of feeling will lead them to a desire to maintain and disseminate truth, and 
who possess the means of its difi'usion with the southern pubhc ; we must 
leave it to them to disabuse that public of its prejudices. But, in the mean 
time, for my own part, I shall continue to act justly, whether those towards 
whom justice is exercised receive it with candor or with contumely. 

Having had occasion to recur to the ordinance of 17S7, in order to defend 
myself against the inferences which the honorable member has chosen to draw 
from my former observations on that slibject, I am not willing now entirely to 
take lea\'e of it without another remark. It need haidly be said, that that 
paper expresses just sentimentB on the great subject of civil and religious liber- 
ty. Such sentiments were common, and abound in aU our state papers of 
that day. But this ordinance did that which was not so common, and which 
is not, even now, univei-sal ; tliat is, it set forth and declared, as a high ana 
binding dull/ of government itself to encoui-ago schools and ad\ance the 
means of education ; on the plain reason that religion, morality and knowledge 



179 

are necessary to good government, and to the happiness of mankind. Onf 
observation further. The important provision incorpoi'ated into the constitu- 
tion of the United States, and several of those of the states, and ]-ecently, as 
we have seen, adopted into the reformed constitution of Virginia, restraining 
legislative power, in questions of private right, and from impairing the obliga- 
tion of contracts, is first introduced and established, as far as I am informed, 
as matter of express written constitutional law, in this ordinance of IVSV. 
And I must add, also, in regard to the author of the ordinance, who has not 
had the happiness to attract the gentleman's notice heretofore, nor. to a\"oid 
his sarcasm now, that he was chairman of that select committee of the old 
Congress, wdiose report first expressed the strong sense of that body, that the 
old confederation was not adequate to the exigencies of the country, and re- 
commendino- to the states to send delegates to the convention which formed 
the present constitution. 

An attempt has been made to transfer fi-om the north to the south the 
honor of this exclusion of slavery from the North-westei-n Territory. The 
journal, without argument or comment, refutes such attempt. The session of 
Vu-ginia was made March, 1784. On the 19th of April following, a com- 
mittee, consisting of Messrs. Jeffei-son, Chase and Howell, veported a plan for 
a temporary government of the territory, in which w';is this article : " That 
after the year 1800, there should be neither sla\'cry nor involuntary ser^■itude 
in any of the said states, otherwise than in punishment of crimes, whereof the 
party shall have been convicted." Mr. Speight, of North Carolina, moved to 
strike out this paragraph. The question was put, according to the form then 
practiced : " Shall these words stand, as part of the plan ?" &c. New Hamp- 
shire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and 
Pennsylvania — seven states — voted in the affirmative; Maryland, Virginia 
and Sonth Carolina, in the negative. North Carolina was divided. As the 
consent of nine states was necessary, the words could not stand, and were 
sti-uck out accordingly. Mr. Jeflerson voted for the clause, but was oveiTuled 
by his collegues. 

In March of the next year (1785) Mr. King, of IMassachusetts, seconded 
by Mr. Ellery, of Rhode Island, proposed the formerly rejected article, with 
this addition: ^^ And that this regxdation shall he an article of comimct^ and 
remain a fundamental princijple of the constitution between the thirteen 
original stcdes and each of the states described in the resolve," &c. On 
this clause, which provided the adequate and thorough security, the eight 
Northern States, at that time, voted affirmatively, and the four Southern 
States negatively. The votes of nine states were not yet obtained, and thus 
the provision was again rejected by the Southern States. The i^erseveionco 
of the north held out, and two yeai-s afterwards the object was attained. It ia 
no derogation from the credit, whatever that may be, of drawing the ordi- 
nance, that its principles had before been prepared and discussed, in the form 
of resolutions. If one should reason in that way, what would become of the 
distinguished honor of the author of the Declarat'ion of Independence ? There 
is not a sentiment in that paper which had not been voted and resolved in 
the assemblies, and other poi>ular bodies in the country, over and ovei- again. 

But the honorable member has now found out that this gentleman, Mr. 
Dane, was a member of the Hartford Convention. However nninfoimed the 
honorable member may be of characters and occurrences at the noith, it would 
seem that he has at his elbows, on this occasion, some high-minded and lofty 
spirit, some magiianimous and tme-hearted monitor, possessing the means of 



180 

local knowledge, and ready to supply the honorable membbr with eveiy thing, 
down even to forgotten and moth-eaten twopenny pamphlets, which may be 
used to the disadvantage of his own country. But, as to the Hailford Con- 
vention, sir-, allow me to say that the proceedings of that body seem now to 
be less read and studied in New England than farther South. They appear 
to be looked to, not in New England, but elsewhere, for the puq^ose of seeing 
how far they may serve as a precedent. But they will not answer the pur- 
pose — they are quite too tame. The latitude in which they originated was 
too cold. Other conventions, of more recent existence, have gone a whole 
bar's length beyond it. The learned doctors of Colleton and Abbeville have 
pushed their commentaiies on the Hartford collect so far that the original text 
writers are thrown entirely into the shade. I have nothing to do, sir, with the 
Hartford Convention. Its journal, which the gentleman has quoted, I never 
read. So far as the honorable member may discover in its proceedings a 
spirit in any degi'ee resembling that which was avowed and justified in those 
other conventions to which I have alluded, or so far as those proceedings can 
be shown to be disloyal to the constitution, or tending to disunion, so far I 
shall be as ready as any one to bestow on them reprehension and censure. 

Having dwelt long on this convention, and other occurrences of that day, 
in the hope, probably, (which will not be gratified,) that I should leave the 
course of this debate to follow him at length in those excursions, the honora- 
ble member returned, and attempted another object. He referi-ed to a speech 
of mine in the other house, the same which I had occasion to allude to myself 
the other day ; and has quoted a passage or two from it, with a bold though 
uneasy and laboring air of confidence, as if he had detected in me an incon- 
sistency. Judging from the gentleman's maimer, a stranger to the couree of 
the debate, and to the point in discussion, would have imagined, from so tri- 
umphant a tone, that the honorable member Avas about to overwhelm me with 
a manifest contradiction. Any one who heard him, and who had not heard 
what I had, in foct, previously said, must have thought me routed and dis- 
comfited, as the gentleman had promised. Sir, a breath blows all this triumph 
away. There is not the slightest diflerence in the sentiments of my remarks 
on the two occasions. What I said here on Wednesday is in exact accordance 
with the opinions expressed by me in the other house in 1825. Though the 
gentleman had the metaphysics of Hudibras — though he were able 

" to sever and divide 
A hair 'twixt north aud nortli-west side." 

he could not yet insert his metaphysical scissors between the fair reading of 
my remarks in 1825 and what I said hero last week. There is not only no 
contradiction, no difierenco, but, in truth, too exact a similiarity, both in 
thought and language, to be entirely in just taste. I h^d myself quoted the 
same speech; had recurred to it, and spoke Avith it open before me; and 
much of what I said was httle more than a repetition from it. In order to 
make finishing work with this alleged contradiction, permit me to recur to 
,the origin of this debate, and review Its couree. This seems expedient, and 
may bo done as well now as at any time. 

Well, then, its history is this: the lionorable member from Connecticut 
moved a resolution, which constituted the fii'st branch of that Avhich is now 
before us; that is to say, a resolution instructing the committee on public 
lands to inquire into the expediency of limiting, for a certain period, the sales 



181 



of public lands to siicii as have lierctofore been offered for sale; and whether 
sundiy officers connected with the eales of the lands, might not bo abolished 
■without detriment to the public sen-ice. 

In the progress of the discussion which arose on this resolution, an honora- 
ble member Irom New Hampshire moved to amend the resolution, so aa en- 
th-ely to reverse its object; that is, to strike it all out, and insert a direction to 
the committee to inquire into the expediency of adopting measures to hasten 
the sales, and ejctend more rapidly the surveys of the lands. 

The honorable member from Maine (Mr. Sprague) suggested that both 
these propositions might well enough go, for consideration, to the committee ; 
and in this state of the question, the member from South Carolina addressed 
the Senate in his fii-st speech. He rose, he said, to give us his own free 
thoughts on the pubhc lands. I saw hun rise, with pleasure, and listened 
with^expectation, though before ho concluded I was filled with surprise. Cer- 
tainly, I was never more surprised than to find him following up, to the ex- 
tent he did, the sentiments and opinions which the gentleman from Missouri 
had put forth, and which it is known he has long entertained. 

I need not repeat, at large, the general topics of the honorable gentleman's 
speech. When he said, yesterday, that he did not attack the Eastern States, 
he certainly must have forgotten not only particular remarks, but the whole 
drift and tenor of his speech ; unless ho means by not attacking, that he did 
not commence hostiHties, but that another had preceded hun in the attack. 
He, in the fir-st place, disapproved of the whole com-se of the government for 
forty years, in regard to its dispositions of the pubhc land ; and then, turning 
northward and eastward, and fancying he had found a cause for alleged nar- 
rowness and niggardliness in the " accm-sed policy " of the tariffj to which he 
represented the people of New England as wedded, he went on, for a full 
hour, with remarks, the whole scope of which was to exhibit the results of 
this pohcy, in feeUngs and in measures unfavorable to the west. I thought 
his opinions unfounded and erroneous, as to the general course of the gov- 
ernment, and ventured to reply to them. 

The gentleman had remarked on the analogy of other cases, and quoted 
the conduct of Evu-opean governments towards their own subjects, settling on 
this continent, as in point, to show that we had been harsh and rigid in sel- 
ling when we should have given the public lands to settlers. I thought the 
honorable member had sufiered his judgment to be betrayed by a false analo- 
gy; that he was struck with an appearance of resemblance where theie was 
no real simihtude. I think so still. The fii-st settlere of North America were 
enterprising spirits, engaging in private adventure, or fleeing from tpanny at 
home. When arrived here, they were forgotten by the mother country, or 
remembered only to be oppressed. Can-ied away again by the appearance of 
analogy, or stmck with the eloquence of the passage, the honorable member 
yesterday observed that the conduct of government towards the western erai- 
gi-ants, or my representation of it, brought to his mind a celebrated speech in 
the British Parliament. It was, sir, the speech of Colonel Barre. On the 
question of the stamp act, or tea tax, I forget which, Colonel Ban-e had heard 
a member on the treasury bench argue, that the people of the United States, 
being British colonists, planted by the maternal care, nourished by the indul- 
gence, and protected by the arms of England, would not gmdge their mite to 
relieve the mother countiy from the heavy burden under which she gi-oaned. 
The langitage of Colonel Barre, in reply to this, was, "They planted by your 
care ? Yom- oppression planted them in America. They fled from yom- ty 



182 

ranny, and gre^\ by your neglect of them. So soon as you began to caie for 
tbem, you showed yom- care by sending persons to spy out their Uberties, mis- 
represent their character, prey upon them, and eat out their substance." 

And does this honorable gentleman mean to maintain that language like 
this is applicable to the conduct of the government of the United States to- 
wards the western emigrants, or to any representation given by me of that 
conduct ? Were the settlers in the west driven thither by our oppression ? 
Have they flourished only by our neglect of them ? Has the government 
done nothing but prey upon them, and eat out their substance ? Sir, this fer- 
vid eloquence of the British speaker, just when and where it was uttered, and 
fit to remain an exercise for the schools, is not a little out of place, when it 
was brought thence to be apphed here, to the conduct of our own country 
towards her own citizens. From America to England it may be trae; from 
.Americans to their own govermuent it would be strange language. Let us 
leave it to be recited and declaimed by our boys against a foreig-n nation ; not 
introduce it here, to recite and declaim ourselves against our own. 

But I come to the point of the alleged contradiction. In my remarks on 
Wednesday, I contended that we could not give away gratuitously all the 
pubhc lands; that we held them in trust; that the government had solemnly 
pledged itself to dispose of them as a common fund for the common benefit, 
and to sell and settle them as its discretion should dictate. Now, sir, what 
contradiction does the gentleman find to this sentiment in the speech of 1825 ? 
He cjuotes me as having then said, that we ought not to hug these lands as a 
very great treasure. Very well, sir ; supposing me to be accurately reported 
in that expression, what is the contradiction ? I have not now said, that we 
should hug these lands as a favorite source of pecuniary income. No such 
^hing. It is not my view. What I have said, and what I do say, is, that 
ihey are a common fund — to be disposed of for the common benefit — to be 
sold at low prices, for the accommodation of settlers, keeping the otvject of 
setthng the lands as much in view as that of raising money from them. This 
I say now, and this I have always said. Is this hugging them as a favorite 
treasui-e ? Is there no difference between hugging and hoarding this fund, 
on the one hand as a great treasure, and on the other of disposing of it at 
low prices, placing the proceeds in the general treasury of the Union ? My 
opinion is, that as much is to be made of the land, as fan- and reasonably may 
be, selling it all the while at such rates as to give the fullest effect to settle- 
ment. This is not giving it all away to the states, as the gentleman would 
propose ; nor is it hugging the fund closely and tenaciously, as a favorite trea- 
sure ; but it is, in my judgment, a just and wise policy, perfectly according 
with all the various duties which rest on government. So much for my con- 
tradiction. And what is it ? Where is the ground of the gentleman's tri- 
umph ? What inconsistency, in word or doctrine, has he been able to detect ? 
Sii', if this be a sample of that discomfiture with which the honorable gentle- 
man threatened me, commend me to the t\ord discomfture for the rest of 
my life. 

But, after all, this is not the point of the debate ; and I must bring the 
gentleman back to that which is the point. 

The real question betAveen me and him is, Where has the doctrine been 
advanced, at the south or the cast, that the population of the west should be 
retarded, or, at least, need not be hastened, on account of its effect to drain off 
the people from the Atlantic States ? Is this doctrine, as has been alleged, of 
eastern origin ? That is the question. Has the gentleman found anything by 



183 

whicli he can make good liis acaisation ? I submit to the Senate, that he has 
entirely failed; and as far as this debate has shown, the only pereon who has 
advanced such sentiments is a gentleman from South Carolina, and a friend to 
the honorable member himself. This honorable gentleman has given no 
answer to this; there is none which can be given. This simple fact, while it 
requires no comment to enforce it, defies all argument to refute it. I could 
refer to the speeches of another southern gentlemen, in yeai-s before, of the 
same general character, and to the same effect, as that which has been quoted ; 
but I will not consume the time of the Senate by the reading of them. 

So then, sir, New England is guiltless of the policy of retarding western 
population, and of all en\'y and jealousy of the growth of the new states. 
Whatever there be of that policy in the country, no part of it is hers. K it 
has a local habitation, the honorable member has probably seen, by this time, 
where he is to look for it ; and if it now has received a name, he himself has 
christened it. 

We approach, at length, sir, to a more important part of the honorable gen- 
tleman's observations. Since it does not accord with my views of justice and 
policy, to vote away the public lands altogether, as mere matter of gratuity, I 
am asked, by the honorable gentleman, on what ground it is that I consent to 
give them away in particular instances. How, he inquires, do I reooncilc with 
these professed sentiments my support of measures appropriating poitions of 
the lands to particular roads, particular canals, particular rivers, and particular 
institutions of education in the west ? This leads, sir, to the real and wide 
diflference in political opinions between the honorable gentleman and myself. 
On my part, I look upon all these objects as connected with the common good, 
fairly embraced in its objects and its terms; he, on the contrary, deems them 
all, if good at all, only local good. This is our difference. The interrogatory 
which he proceeded to put, at once explains this difference. " What interest," 
asks he, " has South Carolma in a canal in Ohio ? " Sir, this very question is 
full of significance. It develops the gentleman's whole political system ; and 
its answer ex|)ounds mine. Here we differ toto coelo. I look upon a road 
over the Alleghany, a canal round the falls of the Ohio, or a canal or railway 
from the Atlantic to the western waters, as being objects large and extensive 
enough to be fairly said to be for the common benefit. The gentleman thinks 
otherwise, and this is the key to open his construction of the powera of the 
government. He may well ask, upon his system, What interest has South 
Carolina in a canal in Ohio ? On that system, it is true, she has no intei'est. 
On that system, Ohio and Carolina are different governments and different 
countries, connected here, it is true, by some slight and ill-defined bond of 
union, but in all main respects separate and diverse. On that system, Cai'oli- 
na has no more interest in a canal in Ohio than in Mexico. The gentleman, 
therefore, only follows out his own principles; he does no more tlian arrive at 
the natural conclusions of his own doctrines; he only announces the true re- 
sults of that creed which he has adopted liimself, and would persuade others 
to adopt, when he thus declares that South Carolina has no interest in a pub- 
he work in Ohio. Sir, we narrow-minded people of New England do not 
reason thus. Our notion of things is entirely different. We look upon the 
states, not as separated, but as united. Wo love to dwell on that Union, and 
on the mutual happiness which it lias so much promoted, and tho common 
renown which it has so gi'catly contributed to acquire. In our contemplation, 
Carohna and Ohio are paits of the same country — states united under tho 
same general government, having interests common, associated, intermingled. 



184 

In whatever is within the pro^Der sphere of the constitutional power of this 
government, we look upon the states as one. We do not impose geographi- 
cal limits to our patriotic feeling or regard; we do not follow rivere, and moun- 
tains, and lines of latitude, to find boundaries beyond which public improve 
meuts do not benefit us. We, who come here as agents and representatives 
of those narrow-minded and selfish men of New England, consider oui-selves 
as bound to regard, with equa;l eye, the good of the whole, in whatever is 
within our power of legislation. Sir, if a railroad or canal, beginning in South 
Carolina, appeared to me to be of national impoi-tance and national magni- 
tude, believing as I do that the power of government extends to the encour- 
agement of works of that description, if I were to stand up here and ask, 
"What interest has Massachusetts in a railroad in South Cai'olina? " I should 
not be willing to face my constituents. These same naiTOw-minded men' 
would tell me that they had sent me to act for the whole coimtry, and that 
one who possessed too little comprehension, either of intellect or feeling, — one 
who was not largo enough, in mind and heart, to embrace the whole, — was 
not fit to be intnisted with the interest of any part. Sir, I do not desire to 
enlarge the powers of government by unjustifiable construction, nor to exer- 
cise any not within a fan- interpretation. But when it is believed that a pow- 
er does exist, then it is, in my judgment, to be exercised for the general benefit 
of the whole : so far as respects the exercise of such a power, the states are 
one. It was the very great object of the constitution to create unity of inter- 
ests to the extent of the powers of the general government. In war and 
peace we are one ; in commerce one ; because the atithority of the general 
government reaches to war and peace, and to the regulation of commerce. I 
have n^ver seen any more difiiculty in erecting lighthouses on the lakes than 
on the ocean ; in improving the harbors of inland seas, than if they were with- 
in the ebb and flow of the tide ; or of removing obsti-uctions in the vast 
streams of the west, more than in any work to facilitate commerce on the At- 
lantic coast. If there be power for one, there is power also for the other ; and 
they are all and equally for the country. 

There are other objects, apparently more local, or the benefit of -which is 
less general, towards which, nevertheless, I have concun-ed with othei-s to give 
aid by donations of land. It is proposed to construct a road in or through 
one of the new states in which the government possesses lai-ge quantities of 
land. Have the United States no right, as a great and untaxed proprietor — 
are they under no obligation — to contribute to an object thus calculated to 
promote the common good of all the proprietors, themselves included ? And 
even with respect^to education, which is the extreme case, let the question be 
considered. In the first place, as we have seen, it was made matter of com- 
pact with these states that they should do their part to promote education. In 
the next place, our whole system of land laws proceeds on the idea that edu- 
cation is for the common good-; because, in every division, a certain portion is 
uniformly reserved and appropriated for the use of schools. And, finally 
have not these new states singularly sti'ong claims, founded on the ground al- 
ready stated, that the government is a great untaxed proprietor in the owner- 
ship of the soil ? It is a consideration of great importance that probably 
there is in no part of the country, or of the world, so great a call for the 
means of education as in those new states, owing to the vast number of per- 
sons within those ages in Avhich education and instruction are usually received, 
if received at all. This is the natural consequence of recency of settlement 
and rapid increase. The census of these states shows how great a proportion 



185 

of the whole population occupies the classes between infancy and childhood. 
These are the wide fields, and here is the deep and quick soil for the seeds of 
knowledge and vhtue ; and this is the favored season, the spring time for 
sowin<T them. Lot them be disseminated without stint. Let them be scat- 
tered with a bountiful broadcast. "Whatever the government can fairly do 
towards these objects, in my opinion, ought to be done. 

These, sir, are the gi-ounds,succinctly stated, on which my votes for grants 
of lands for pailicular objects rest, while I mamtain, at the same time, that it 
is all a common fund, for the common benefit. And reasons hke these, I 
presume, have influenced the votes of other gentlemen from New England. 
Those who have a difierent view of the powera of the govei-nment, of course, 
come to difierent conclusions on these as on other questions. I observed, 
when speakmg on this subject before, that if we looked to any measure, 
whether for a road, a canal, or any thing else intended for the improvement 
of the west, it would be found, that if the New England mjes were struck 
out of the Hst of votes, the southern noes would always have rejected the 
measure. The ti-uth of this has not been denied, and cannot be denied. In 
stating this, I thought it just to ascribe it to the constitutional scruples of the 
south, rather than to any other less favorable or less charitable cause. But 
no sooner had I done this, than the honorable gentleman asks if I reproach 
him and his friends with theh constitutional scruples. Sir, I reproach nobody. 
I stated a fact, and gave the most respectful reason for it that occun-edto me. 
The gentleman cannot deny the fact— he may, if he choose, disclaim the 
reason. It is not long since I had occasion, in presenting a petition from his 
own state, to account for its being inti-usted to my hands by saymg, that tho 
constitutional opinions of the gentleman and his worthy colleague prevented 
them from suppoi-tmg it. Sia-, did I state this as a matter of reproach ? Far 
from it. Did I attempt to find any other cause than an honest one for _ these 
scruples ? Sir, I did not. It did not become me to doubt, nor to insinuate 
that the gentleman had either changed his sentiments, or that he had made 
up a set of constitutional opinions, accommodated to any paiticulai- combina- 
tion of poHtical occm-rences. Had I done so, I should have felt, that while I 
was entitled to little respect in thus questioning other people's motives, I jus- 
tified the whole world in suspecting my own. 

But how has the gentleman retm-ned tliis respect for othei-s' opinions ? His 
own candor and justice, how have they been exhibited towards the motives 
of others, while he has been at so much pains to maintain — what nobody 
has disputed — the purity of his own? Why^ sir, he hiis asked lohen, and 
lioio^ and why New England votes were found going for measures favorable 
to the west; he has demanded to be informed whether all this did not begin 
in 1825, and while the election of President was still pending. Sir, to 
■ these questions retort would be justified ; and it is both cogent and at liand. 
Nevertheless, I will answer the inquiry not by retort, but by facts. I will tell 
the gentleman xohen, and how, and why New Englan<l has supported meas- 
ures favorable to the west. I have already refen-ed to the early history of the 
government — to the fii-st acquisition of the lands — to the original laws for 
disposmg of them and for governing the territories where they lie; and have 
shown the influence of New England men and New England principles in nil 
these leading measures. I should not be pardoned were I to go over that 
ground again. Coming to more recent times, and to measures of a loss gene- 
ral ch^ractei-, I have endeavored to prove that every thing of this kind designed 
for western improvement has depended on the votes of New England. All 
this is true beyond the power of contradiction. 



186 

And now, sir, there are two measures to wliicli I will refer, not so ancient 
as to belong to the early history of the piibhc lands, and not so recent as to 
be on this side of the period when the gentleman chaiitably imagines a new 
direction may have been given to New England feeling and New England 
votes. These measures, and the New England votes in suppoil of them, may 
be taken as samples and specimens of all the rest. In 1820, (observe, Mr. 
President, in 1820,) the people of the west besought Congress for a reduction 
in the price of lands. In favor of that reduction. New England, with a dele- 
gation of forty membei-s in the other house, gave thh-ty-three votes, and one 
only against it. The fom- Southern States, with fifty members, gave thiily- 
two votes foi it, and seven against it. Again, in 1821, (obsen-e again, sir, the 
time,) the law passed for the rehef of the purchasers of the pubhc lands. 
This was a measure of vital importance to the west, and more especially to 
the south-west. It authorized the relinquishment of contracts for lands, which 
had been entered into at high prices, and a reduction, in other cases, of not 
less than 37t} per cent, on the purchase money. Many millions of dollai-s, six 
or seven I believe, at least, — probably much more, ■ — were relinquished by 
this law. On this bill New England, with her forty members, gave more af- 
fii-mative votes than the four Southern States with then- fifty-two or three 
membere. These two ai-e far the most important measures respecting the 
public lands which have been adopted within the last twenty years. They 
took place in 1820 and 1821. That is the time when. And as to the man- 
nw how, the gentleman already sees that it was by voting, in solid column, 
for the required relief; and lastly, as to the cause why, I tell the gentleman, it 
was because the members from New England thought the measures just and 
salutary ; because they entertained towards the west neither envy, hatred, nor 
mahce ; because they deemed it becoming them, as just and enlightened pub- 
lic men, to meet the exigency which had arisen in the west with the aj)pro- 
priate measure of relief; because they felt it due to their own characters of 
then- New England predecessors in this government, to act towards the new 
states in the spirit of a liberal, patronizing, mag-uanimous policy. So much, 
sir, for the cause why ; and I hope that by this time, sh, the honorable gen- 
tleman is satisfied ; if not, I do not know when, or hou\ or why, he ever 
will be. 

Having recmred to these two important measures, in answer to the gentle- 
man's inquiries, I must now beg permission to go back to a period still some- 
thing earlier, for the purpose still further of showing how much, or rather 
how little reason there is for the gentleman's insinuation that political hopes, 
or foal's, or party associations, were the grounds of these New England votes. 
And after what has been said, I hope it may be forgiven mo if I allude to 
some political opinions and Aotes of my own, of very little public importance, 
certainly, but which, from the time at which they were given and expressed, 
may pass for good witnesses on this occasion. 

This government, Mr. President, from its origin to the peace of 1815, had 
been too much engrossed with ^•al•ious other important concerns to be able to 
tui-n its thoughts inward, and look to the development of its vast intei-nal re- 
sources. In the early part of President Washington's administration, it was 
fully occuijied with organizing the govenuiK'nt, providing for the public debt 
defending the frontiers, and maintaining doiuestic peace. Before the termina- 
tion of that administratiou, the fires of tlic French revolution blazed forth, as 
from a new opened volcano, and the whole breadth of the ocean did not en- 
tirely secure us from its eftects. The smoke and the cinde/s reached us, though 



187 

not the burning lava. Difficult and agitating questions, embarrassing to gov- 
ernment, and dividing public opinion, sprung out of tbe new state of our for- 
eign relations, and were succeecled by othei-s, and yet again by others, equally 
embarrassing, and equally exciting division and discord, through the long se- 
ries of twenty years, till they finally issued in the war with England. Do\\n 
to the close .of that war, no distinct, marked and deliberate attention had been 
given, or coidd have been given, to the internal condition of the country, iti 
capacities of improvement, or the constitutional power of the government, in 
regai'd to objects connected with such improvement. 

The peace, Mr. President, brought about an entirely new and a most inter- 
esting state of things ; it opened to us other prospects, and suggested othei 
duties; we oureelves were changed, and the whole world was changed. The 
pacification of Europe, after June, 1815, assumed a fiiin and permanent as- 
pect. The nations evidently manifested that they were disposed for peace: 
some agitation of the waves might be expected, even after the storm had sub- 
sided ; but the tendency was, strongly and rapidly, towards settled repose. 

It so happened, sir, that I was at that time a member of Congress, and, 
hke othei-s, naturally turned my attention to the contemplation of the newly- 
altered condition of the country, and of the world. It appeared plainly 
enough to me, as well as to wiser and more experienced men, that the policy 
of the government would necessarily take a start in a new direction ; because 
new directions would necessarily be given to the pursuits and occupations of 
the people. We had pushed our commerce far and fast, under the advantage 
of a neutral flag. But there were now no longer flags, either neutral or belli- 
gerent. The harvest of neuti-ality had been great, but we had gathered it all. 
With the peace of Europe, it was obvious there wovUd spring up, in her circle 
of nations, a revived and invigorated spirit of trade, and a new activity in all 
the business and objects of civilized life. Hereafter, our commercial gains 
were to be earned only by success in a close and intense competition. Other 
nations would produce for themselves, and carry for themselves, and manufac- 
ture for themselves, to the full extent of then abihties. The crops of our 
plains would no longer sustain European armies, nor our ships longer supply 
those whom war had rendered unable to supply themselves. It was obvious 
that under these cncumstances, the couutiy would begin to sur\-ey itself, and 
to estimate its own capacity of improvement. And this improvement, how 
was it to be accomplished, and who was to accomplish it ? 

We were ten or twelve millions of people, spread over almost half a Avorld. 
We were twenty-four states, some stretching along the same sea-board, some 
along the same fine of inland frontier, and others on opposite banks of the 
same vast rivers. Two considerations at once presented themselves, in looking 
at this state of things, with great force. One was, that that gieat branch of 
improvement, which consistetl in furnishing new facilities of intercoui'sc!, neces- 
sarily ran into difterent states, in every leading instance, and.'Nvould benefit tha 
citizens of all such states. No one state, therefoi-e, in such cases, would as- 
sume the whole exjiense, nor was the co-operation of several states to be ex- 
pected. Take the instance of the Delaware Breakwater. It will cost se\eral 
millions of money. Would Pennsylvania, New Jei-sey, and Delaware ha\o 
united to accomplish it at their joint expense? Certainly not, for the samo 
reason. It could not be done, therefore, but by the general g<n ernment. The 
same may be said of the largo inland undertakings, except that, in them, gov- 
ernment, instead of bearing the whole expense, co-operates with othei's to bear 
a part. The other consideration is, that the United States ha\ e the raeaas. 



188 

They enjoy the revenues derived from commerce, and the states have no abun- 
dant and easy sources of pubhc income. The custom houses till the general 
treasury, whQe the states have scanty resources, except by resort to heavy di- 
rect taxes. 

Under this view of things, I thought it necessary to settle, at least for my- 
self, some definite notions, -with respect to the powers of government, in reo-ai-d 
to internal aftairs. It may not savor too much of self-commendation to re- 
mai-k, that, with this object, I considered the constitution, its judicial coustnic- 
tion, its contemporaneous exposition, and the whole histoiy of the legislation 
of Congi'ess under it ; and I arrived at the conclusion that government had 
l^ower to accomplish sundiy objects, or aid in their accompHshment, which are 
now commonly spoken of as Internal Improvements. That conclusion, sir, 
may have been right, or it may have been wrong. I am not about to ai-gue 
the grounds of it at large. I say only that it was adopted, and acted on, even 
so eai-ly as in 1816. Yes, Mr. President, I made up my opinion, and deter- 
mined on my intended course of political conduct on these subjects, in the 
14th Congi-ess in 1816. And now, Mr, President, I have fiu-ther to say, that 
I made up these opinions, and entered on this coui-se of political conduct, 
Teucro duce. Yes, sii-, I pursued, in all this, a South Carolina track. On 
the doctrines of internal improvement, South Carohna, as she was then repre- 
sented in the other house, set forth, in 1816, under a fresh and leading breeze; 
and I was among the followers. But if my leader sees new lights, and turns 
a shai-p corner, unless I see new lights also, I keep straight on in the same 
path. I repeat, that leading gentlemen from South Carolina were fii-st and 
foremost in behalf of the doctrines of internal improvements, when those doc- 
trines first came to be considered and acted upon in Congress. The debate on 
the bank question, on the taril}"of 1816, and on the direct tax, wiU show who 
was who, and what was what, at that time. The tai-iff of 1816, one of the 
plain cases of oppression and usm-pation, from which, if the government does 
not recede, individual states may justly secede from the government, is, sir, in 
truth, a South Cai'ohna tarifl^ supported by South Carohna votes. But for 
those votes, it could not have passed in the fonn in which it did pass ; whereas, 
if it had depended on Massachusetts votes, it would have been lost. Does not 
the honorable gentleman well know all this ? There are certainly those who 
do frdl well know it all. I do not say this to reproach South Carolina; I 
only state the fact, and I think it will appear to be true, that among the ear- 
hest and boldest advocates of the tariff, as a measure of protection, and on 
the express ground of protection, were leading gentlemen of South Carolina 
in Congi-ess. I did not then, and cannot now, undei-stand theu- language in 
any other sense. While this tai-iff" of 1816 was under discussion in the 
House of Representatives, an honorable gentleman from Georgia, now of this 
house, (Mr. Forsyth,) moved to reduce the proposed duty on cotton. He 
failed by four votes, South Carolina giving three votes (enough to have turned 
the scale) against his motion. The act, sir, then passed, and received on its 
passage the support of a majority of the representatives of South Carolina 
present and voting. This act is the first, in the order of those now denounced 
as plain usuipations. We see it daily in the list by the side of those of 1824 
and 1828, as a case of manifest oppression, justifying disunion. I put it home 
to the honorable member from South Carolina, that his own state was not 
only "art and part" in this measiire, but Vlxq causa cmisans. Without her 
aid, this seminal principle of mischief, this root of upas, could not have been 
planted. I have already said — and it is true — that this act proceeded on 



189 

the gi'ound of protection. It interfered diiectly with existing interests of 
great vahie and amount. It cut up the Calcutta cotton tj-ade by the roots. 
But it pasf^ed, nevertheless, and it passed on the principle of protecting manu- 
factures, on the principle against free trade, on the principle oj)posed to that 
which lets us alone. 

Such, Mr. President, were the opinions of important and leading gentlemen 
of South Carolina, on the subject of internal improvement, in 1816. I went 
out of Congress the next year, and retm-ning again in 1823, thought I found 
South Carolina where I had left her. I really supposed that all things re- 
mained as they were, and that the South Carolina doctrine of internal im- 
provements would be defended by the same eloquent voices, and the same 
strong arms, as formerly. In the lapse of these six years, it is true, political 
associations had assumed a new aspect and new divisions. A party had arisen 
in the south, hostile to the doctrine of internal improvement^ and had vigor- 
ously attacked that doctrine. Anti-consolidation was the flag under which 
this partv fought, and its supportei-s inveighed against internal improvements, 
much after the same manner in which the honorable gentleman has now in- 
veighed against them, as pait and parcel of the system of consohdation. 

Whether this party arose in South CaroUna hei-self, or in her neighborhood, 
is more than I know. I think the latter. However that may have been, 
there were those found in South Carolina ready to make war upon it, and 
who did make inti-epid wai- upon it. Namas being regarded as things, in 
such controvei-sies, they bestowed on the anti-improvement gentlemen the ap- 
pellation of radicals. Yes, sh", the name of radicals, as a tenn of distinction, 
applicable and apphed to those who defended the liberal doctrines of internal 
improvements, originated, according to the best of my recollection, somewhere 
between North Carohna and Georgia. Well, sir, those mischievous radicals 
were to be put down, and the strong ai-m of South Carolina was stretched out 
to put them down. About this time, sir, I returned to Congress, The battle 
with the radicals had been fought, and our South Carolina champions of the 
doctrine of internal improvement had nobly maintained their gi'ound, and 
were understood to have achieved a victory. They had driven back the 
enemy with discomfiture ; a thing, by the way, sir, which is not always per- 
foraied when it is promised. A gentleman, to whom I have aheady referred 
in this debate, had come into Congress, during my absence from it, from 
South Carolina, and had brought with him a high reputation for ability. He 
came from a scliool with which we had been acquainted, et noscitur a sociis. 
I hold in my hand, sir, a printed speech of this distinguished gentleman, 
(Ml-. McDuFFiE,) " ON INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS," deUvcred about the period 
to which I now refer, and printed with a few introductory remarks uj)on con- 
sohdation ; in which, sir, I think he quite consolidated the arguments of his 
opponents, the radicals, if to crush be to consolidate. I give you a short but 
substantive quotation from these lemarks. He is speaking of a pamphlet, then 
recently published, entitled " Consolidation ;" and ha\-ing alluded to the ques- 
tion of rechartering tlte former Bank of the United States, he says : " More- 
over, in the early history of parties, and when Mr. Crawford advocated the 
renewal of the old charter, it was considrred a federal measure; which inter- 
nal improvement never was, as this author erroneously states. This latter 
measure originated in the administration of Mr. Jefferson, with the aj)prftpria- 
tion for the Cumberland road ; and was fii-st pi'oposed, as a sijatem, by Mi-. 
Calhoun, and carried through the House of Representatives by a large majori- 
ty of the republicans, including almost every one of the leading men who 
canied us through the late war." 



190 

So, then, internal improvement is not one of the federal heresies. One 
paragi-aph more, sir. 

•* The author in question, not content with denouncing as federahsts Gen. 
Jackson, Mr. Adams, Mr. Calhoun, and the majority of the South Carolina 
delegation in Congress, modestly extends the denunciation to Mr. Monroe and 
the -whole ropubhcan party. Here arc his words : ' During the administra- 
tion of Mr. Monroe, much has passed which the republican paity would be 
glad to approve, if they could ! ! But the principal feature, and that which 
has -chiefly elicited these observations, is the renewal of the system of in- 
ternal IMPROVEMENTS.' Now, this measure was adopted by a vote of 115 
to 86, of a republican Congress, and sanctioned by a repubhcan president. 
Who, then, is this author, who assumes the high prerogative of denouncing, 
in the name of the republican party, the republican administration of the 
country — a denunciation including within its sweep Calhoun, Lowndes, and 
Cheves; men who will be regarded as the brightest ornaments of South 
Carolina, and the strongest pUlars of the republican party, as long as the late 
war shall be remembered, and talents and patriotism shall be regarded as the 
proper objects of the admiration and gratitude of a free people ! ! " 

Such ai-e the opinions, sir, which were maintained by South Carolina gen- 
tlemen in the House of Representatives on the subject of internal improve- 
ment, when I took my seat there as a member from Massachusetts, in 1823. 
But this is not all ; we had a bill before us, and passed it in that house, en- 
titled " An act to procure the necessary suiTeys, plans, and estimates upon the 
subject of roads and canals," It authorized the president to cause surveys 
and estimates to he made of the routes of such roads and canals as he might 
deem of national importance in a coinynercial or military j^oint of vieio, or 
for the transportation of the mail; and appropriated thirty thousand dollars 
out of the treasury to defray the expense. This act, though preliminary in 
its nature, covered the whole ground. It took for gi-anted the complete pow- 
er of internal improvement, as for as any of its advocates had ever contended 
for it. Having passed the other house, the bill came up to the Senate, and 
was here considered and debated in April, 1824. The honorable member 
from South Carolina was a member of the Senate at that time. While the 
bill was imder consideration here, a motion was made to add the following 
proviso : — 

" Provided, That nothing herein contained shall be constnied to affii-m or 
admit a power in Congress, on their own authority, to make roads or canals 
within any of the states of the Union," 

The yeas and nays were taken on this proviso, and the honorable member 
voted in the ^negative. The proviso failed, 

A motion was then made to add this proviso, viz : — 

" Provided, That the faith of the United States is hereby pledged, that no 
money shall ever be expended for roads or canals, except it shall be among 
the sevei-al states, and in the same jiroportion as dii-ect taxes are laid and as- 
sessed by the provisions of the constitution." 

The honorable member voted against this proviso also, and it failed. 

The bill was then put on its passage, and the honorable member voted for 
it, and it passed, and became a law. 

Now, it strikes me, sir, that there is no maintaining these votes but upon 
the ]iower of intonial improvement, in its broadest sense. In tnith, tl!--^<!e 
bills for surveys and estimates have always been considered as test qtiestiony. 
They show who is for and who against internal improvement This law itseh" 



191 

went the wliole length, and assumed the fidl and complete power. The gen- 
tleman's votes sustained that power, in every form in which the various propo- 
sitions to amend presented it. He went for the entire and unrestrained au- 
thority, without consulting the states, aud without agreeing to any proportionate 
distribution. And now, sufler me to remind you, Mr. President, that it is this 
very same power, thus sanctioned, in every form, by the gentleman's own 
opinion, that is so plahi aud manifest a usurpation, that the state of South 
Carohna is supposed to be justified in i-efusuig submission to any laws carry- 
ing the power into effect. Truly, sir, is not this a little too hard ? May we 
not crave some mercy, under favor and protection of the gentleman's own 
authority ? Admitting that a road or a canal must be written down flat 
usurpation as ever was committed, may we find no mitigation in our respect 
for his place, and his vote, as one that knows the law ? 

The tai-ifl: which South Carohna had an efficient hand in establishing in 
1816, and this asserted power of internal improvement — advanced by her in 
the same year, aud, as we have seen, approved and sanctioned by her repre- 
sentatives in 1824, — these two measures are the gi-eat grounds on which she 
is now thought to be justified in breaking up the Union, if she sees fit to 
break it up. 

I may now safely say, I thmk, that we have had the authority of leading 
and distinguished gentlemen fi'om South Carolina in support of the doctrine 
of internal improvement. I repeat that, up to 1824, I, for one, followed 
South C^arolina ; but when that star in its ascension veered off in an unex- 
pected dhectiou, I rehed on its light no longer. [Here the Vice President 
said. Does the Chau- understand the gentleman from Massachusetts to say 
that the person now occupying the chair of the Senate has changed his opin- 
ions on the subject of internal improvements ?] From nothing ever said to 
me, sir, have I had reason to know of any change in the opinions of the per- 
son filling the chair of the Senate. If such change has taken place, I regret 
it; I speak generally of the state of South Carolina. Individuate avc know 
there are who hold opinions favorable to the power. An application for its 
exercise in behalf of a pubhc work in South Carohna itself is now pending, I 
believe, in the other house, presented by members from that state. 

I have thus, sir, perhaps not without some tediousness of detail, shown that, 
if I am in error on the subject of internal improvements, how and in what 
company I fell into that error. If I am wrong, it is apparent who misled me. 

I go to other remarks of the honorable member — and I have to complain 
of an entire misapprehension of what I said on the subject of the national 
(Jebt — though I can hardly perceive how any one could misundei-stand me. 
What I said was, not that I wished to put off the payment of the debt, but, 
on the contrary, that I had always voted for every measure for its reduction, 
as uniformly as the gentleman himself. He seems to claim the exclusive 
merit of a disposition to reduce the pubhc charge ; I do not allow it to him. 
As a debt, I was, I am, for paying it; because it is a charge on our finances, 
and on the industry of the country. But I observed that I thought I per- 
ceived a morbid fervor on that subject; an excessive anxiety to pay off the 
debt; not so much because it is a debt simply, as because, while it lasts, it 
furnishes one objection to disunion. It is a tie of common interest while it 
lasts. I did not impute such motive to the honorable member himself; but 
that there is such a feeling in existence I ha\e not a particle of doubt. The 
most I said was, that if one effect of the d<A)t was to strengthen our Union, 
'.hat effect itself was not regretted by me, howe^'r much othei's might regret 



193 

it. The gentleman has not seen how to reply to this othenvise than by sup- 
posing me to have advanced the doctrine that a national debt is a national 
blessing. Othei-s, I must hope, will find less difficulty in understanding me. 
I distinctly and pointedly cautioned the honorable member not to understand 
me as expressing an opinion favorable to the continuance of the debt. I re- 
peated this caution, and repeated it more than once — but it was thrown 
away. 

On yet another point I was still more imaccountably misunderstood. The 
gentleman had harangued against " consolidation." I told him, in reply, tliat 
there was one kind of consolidation to which I was attached, and that was, 
the CONSOLIDATION OF OUR Union ; and that this was precisely that consoh- 
dation to which I feared othei-s were not attached ; that such consolidation was 
the very end of the constitution — that the leading object, as they had in- 
formed us themselves, which its framers had kept in view. I tm-ned to their 
commimication, and read theii- veiy words, — " the consolidation of the Union," 
— and expressed my devotion to this sort of consohdation. I said in terms 
that I wished not, in the shghtest degree, to augment the powers of this gov- 
enmient; that my object was to preserve, not to enlarge; and that, by consoli- 
dating the Union, I understood no moi-e th^nthe strengthening of the Union 
and perpetuating it. Having been thus ex-^ licit ; having thus read, fi-om the 
printed book, the precise words which I ado}.ted, as expressing my own senti- 
ments, it passes compi-ehension, how any man eould understand me as con- 
tending for an extension of the powers of the government, or for consolidation 
in the odious sense in which it means an accumulation, in the federal govern- 
ment, of the powera properly belonging to the states. 

I repeat, sh, that, in adopting the sentiments of the framei^s of the consti- 
tution, I read their language audibly, and word for word ; and I pointed out 
the distinction, just as fully as I have now done, between the consolidation of 
the Union and that other obnoxious consolidation which I disclaimed ; and yet 
the honorable gentleman misunderstood me. The gentleman had said that 
he Avished for no fixed revenue — not a shilling. If, by a word, he coidd 
convert the Capitol into gold, he would not do it. Why all this fear of reve- 
nue ? Why, sir, because, as the gentleman told us, it tends to consolidation. 
Now, tliis can mean neither more or less than that a common revenue is a com- 
mon interest, and that all common interests tend to hold the union of the 
states together. I confess I like that tendency; if the gentleman dislikes 
it, he is right in deprecating a shilling's fixed revenue. So much, sir, for con- 
solidation. 

As well as I recollect the coui-se of his remarks, the honorable gentleman 
next recurred to the subject of the tariff. He did not doubt the word must be 
of unpleasant sound to me, and proceeded, with an efibrt neither new nor at- 
tended with new success, to involve me and my votes in inconsistency and con 
tradiction. I am happy the honorable gentleman has furnished me an op- 
portunity of a timely remark or two on that subject. I was glad ho ap- 
proached it, for it is a question I enter upon without fear from any body. — 
The strenuous toil of the gentleman has been to raise an inconsistency between 
my dissent to the tarifi^ in 1824 and my vote in 1828. It is labor lost. He 
pays undeserved comphment to my speech in 1824; but this is to raise me 
high, that my fall, as he Avould have it, in 1828 may be the more signal. — 
Sir, thei'e was no fall at all. Betwecii the ground I stood on in 1S24 and 
that I took in 1828, there was not only no precipice, but no declivity. It was 
a change of position, to meet new circumstances, but on the same h el. A 



193 

plain tale explains the whole matter. In 1816, 1 had not acquiesced in the 
tariflj then supported by South Carolina. To some parts of it, especially, I 
felt and expressed gi-eat repugnance. I held the same opinions in 1821, at 
the meetino- in Faneuil Hall, to which the gentleman has alluded. I said 
then, and say now, that, as an original question, the authority of Congress to 
exercise the revenue power, with direct reference to the protection of manufac- 
tures, is a questionable authority, far more questionable in my judgment, than 
the power of internal improvements. I must confess, sir, that, in one respect, 
some impression has been made on my opinions lately. !Mr. Madison's pub- 
lication has put the power in a very strong light. He has placed it, I must 
acknowledge, upon gi-ounds of construction and argument which seem impreg- 
nable. But even if the power were doubted, on the face of the constitution 
itself, it had been assumed and asserted in the first revenue law ever passed 
under the same constitution ; and, on this ground, as a matter settled by con- 
temporaneous practice, I had refrained from expressing the opinion that the ta- 
riff laws transcended constitutional limits, as the gentleman supposes. What I 
did say at Faneuil Hall, as far as I now remember, was, that this was originally 
matter of doubtful construction. The gentleman himself, I suppose, thinks there 
is no doubt about it, and that the laws are plainly against the constitution. Mr. 
Madison's lettei-s, already referred to, pontaiu, in myjudgment,'by farthemost 
able exposition extant of this part of the constitution. He has satisfied me, so 
far as the practice of the government had left it an open question. 

With a great majority of the representatives of Massachusetts, I voted 
against the tariff of 1824. My reason? were then given, and I will not now 
repeat them. But noth withstanding our dissent, the great states of New York, 
Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky went for the bill, in almost imbroken 
column, and it passed. Congi-ess and the president sanctioned it, and it be- 
came the law of the land. What, then, were we to do ? Our only option 
was either to fall in with this settled course of public policy, and to accommo- 
date ourselves to it as well as we could, or to embrace the South Carolina doc- 
trine, and talk of nuUitying the statute by state interference. 

The last alternative did not suit our principles, and, of course, we adopted 
the former. In 1827, the subject came again before Congress, on a proposi- 
tion favorable to wool and woollens. We looked upon the system of protec- 
tion as being fixed and settled. The law of 1824 remained. It had gone 
into full operation, and in regard to some objects intended by it, perhaps most 
of them had produced all its ex-pected eftects. No man proposed to repeal 
it — no man attempted to renew the general contest on its principle. But, 
owing to subsequent and unforeseen occmrences, the benefit intended by it to 
wool and woollen fabrics had not been realize<l. Events, not known here 
when the law passed, and had taken place, which defeated its object in that 
particular respect. A measure was accordingly brought forward to meet this 
precise deficiency, to rcmedy this particular defect. It was limited to wool 
and woollens. Was ever any thing more reasonable ? If the policy of the 
tariff laws had become established in principle as the permanent policy of the 
government, should they not be revised and amended, and made equal, like 
other laws, as exigencies should arise, or justice require? Because we had 
doubted about adopting the system, were we to refuse to ciu-e its manifest 
defects after it became adopted, and when no one attempted its repeal ? And 
this, sir, is the inconsistency so much bruited. I had voted against the tariff 
of 1824 — but it passed; and in 1827 and 1828, I voted to amend it in A 
point essential to the interest of my constituents Where is the inconsistency ? 
Could I do otherwise ? . _ 

Id 



194 

Sir, does political consistency consist in always giving negative votes? 
Does it require of a public man to refuse to concur in amending laws because 
they passed against his consent? Having voted against the taritf originally, 
does consistency demand that I should do all in my power to maintain an 
unequal tari^ burdensome to my own constituents, in many respects, — favor- 
able in non^e? To consistency of that sort I lay no claim; and there is 
another sort to which I lay as little — and that is, a kind of consistency by 
■which pei-sons feel themselves as much bound to oppose a proposition after it 
has become the law of the land as before. 

The bill of 1827, limited, as I have said, to the single object in which the 
tariff of 1824 had manifestly foiled in its effect, passed the House of Repre- 
sentatives, but was lost here. We had then the act of 1828. I need not 
recur to the history of a measure so recent. Its enemies spiced it with what- 
soever they thought would render it distasteful ; its friends took it, drugged as 
it was. Vast amounts of property, many millions, had been invested in 
manufactures, under the inducements of the act of 1824. Events called 
loudly, I thought for further regulations to secure the degree of protection in- 
tended by that act. I was disposed to vote for such regulations, and desired 
nothing more ; but certainly was not to be bantered out of my purpose by a 
threatened augmentation of duty on molasses, put into the bill for the avowed 
purpose of making it obnoxious. The vote may have been right or wrong, 
wise or unwise ; but it is little less than absurd to allege against it an incon- 
sistency with opposition to the former law. 

Sir, as to the general subject of the tariff, I have little now to say. 
A.nother opportunity may be presented. I remarked, the other day, that this 
policy did not begin with us in New England ; and yet, sh. New England is 
charged with vehemence as being favorable, or charged with equal vehemence 
as being unfavorable, to the tariff" policy, just as best suits the time, place, and 
occasion for making some charge against her. The credulity of the pubhc 
has been put to its extreme capacity of false impression relative to her conduct 
in this particular. Through aU the south, during the late contest, it was New 
England policy, and a New England admmistration, that was inflicting the 
country with a taritf pohcy beyond all endurance, while on the other side of 
, the Alleghany, even the act of 1828 itself — the very sublimated essence of 
oppression, according to southern opinions — was pronounced to be one of 
those blessings for which the west was indebted to the " generous south." 

With large investments in manufacturmg establishments, and various inter- 
' ests connected with and dependent on them, it is not to be expected that New 
England, any more than other portions ^of the country, will now consent to 
any measures destructive or highly dangerous. The duty of the goverament, 
at the present moment, would seem to be to preserve, not to destroy; to main- 
tain the position which it has assumed ; and for one, I shall feel it an indis- 
pensable obligation to hold it steady, as for as in my power, to that degree 
of protection which it has undertaken to bestow. No more of the tarifl". 

Professing to be provoked by what he chose to consider a charge made by 
me against South Carolina, the honorable member, Mr. President, has_ taken 
up a new crosade against New England. Leaving altogether the subject of 
the public lands, in which his success, perhaps, had been neither distinguished 
nor satisfactory, and letting go, also, of the topic of the tariff; he sallied forth 
in a general assault on the opinions, politics, and parties of New England, as 
they have been exhibited in the last thirty years. This is natural. The «nar- 



195 

row policy" of the public lands had proved a legal settlement in South 
Carolina, and was not to be removed. The "accursed policy" of the tariff, 
also, had established the fact of its birth and parentage in the same state. 
No wonder, therefore, the gentleman wished to carry the war, as hfe expressed 
it, into the enemy's country. Prudently wilhng to quit these subjects, he was 
doubtless desirous of t;ustening others, which could not be transferred south of 
Mason and Dixon's line. The politics of New England became his theme ; 
and it was in this part of his speech, I think, that he menaced me with such 
sore discomfiture. 

Discomfitm-6 ! why, sir, when he attacks any thing which I maintain, and 
overthrows it; when he turns the right or left of any position which I take 
up ; when he drives me from any ground I choose to occupy, he may then 
talk of discomfiture, but not till that distant day. What has he done ? Has 
he maintained his own charges ? Has he proved what he alleged ? Has he 
sustained himself in his attack on the government, and on the history of the 
north, in the matter of the public lands ? Has he disproved a fact, refuted a 
proposition, weakened an argument maintained by me ? Has he come within 
beat of drum of any position of mine ? O, no ; but he has " carried the 
war into the enemy's country ! " Carried the war into the enemy's country ! 
Yes, sir, and what sort of a Avar has he made of it ? Why, sir, he has stretched 
a dragnet over the whole surface of perished pamphlets, indiscreet sermons, 
frothy paragraphs, and fuming popular addresses; over whate\-er the pulpit in 
its moments of alarm, the press in its heats, and parties in their extravagances, 
have severally thi-own off, in times of general excitement and violence. He 
has thus swept together a mass of such things, as, but that they are now old, 
the pubhc health would have requhed him rather to leave in their state of 
dispersion. 

For a good long hour or two, we had the unbroken pleasure of listening to 
the honorable member, while he recited, with his usual grace and spirit, and with 
evident high gusto, speeches, pamphlets, addr-esses, and all that et ceteras of the 
political press, such as warm heads produce in warm times, and such as it 
would be " discomfiture " indeed for any one, whose taste did not delight in 
that sort of reading, to be obliged to peruse. This is his war. This is to 
carry the war into the enemy's country. It is in an invasion of this sort that 
he flatters himself with the expectation of gaining laurels fit to adorn a 
senator's brow. 

Mr. President, I shall not, it will, I trust, not be ex-pected that I should, 
either now or at any time, separate this farrago into parts^ and answer and ex- 
amine its components. I shall hai-dly bestow upon it all a general remark or 
two. In the run of forty years, sir, under this constitution, we have experienced 
sundry successive violent party contests. Party arose, indeed, with the con- 
stitution itself, and in some form or other has attended through the greater 
part of its history. 

Whether any other coastitution than the old articles of confederation was 
desirable, was itself, a question on which parties di\idcd ; if a new constitution 
was framed, what powei-s should be given to it was another question ; and 
when it had been formed, what was, in fixct, the just extent of the poweis 
actually conferred, was a third. Parties, as we know, existed under the first 
administration, as distinctly marked as those which manifested themselves at 
any subsequent period. 

The contest immediately preceding the pohtical change in 1801, and that, 



196 

again, wliicli existed at the commencement of tlie late war, are otlier instances 
of pai-ty excitement, of something more than usual strength and intensity. 
In all these conflicts there was, no doubt, much of violence on both and all 
sides. It would be impossible, if one had a fancy for such employment, to 
adjust the relative quantum of violence between these two contending parties. 
There'was enough in each, as must always be expected in popidar governments. 
With a great deal of proper and decorous discussion there was mingled a great 
deal, also, of declamation, virulence, crimination, and abuse. 

In regard to any party, probably, at one of the leading epochs in the history 
of parties, enough may he found to make out another equally inflamed exhi- 
bition as that which the honorable member has edified us. For myself, sir, 
I shaU not rake among the rubbish of by-gone times to see what I can find, or 
whether I cannot find something by which I can fix a blot on the escutcheon 
of any state, any party, or any part of the country. General Washington's 
administration was steadily and zealously maintained, as we all know, by New 
England. It was violently opposed elsewhei-e. We know in what quai-ter he 
had the most earnest, constant, and persevering support, in all his great and 
leading measures. We know where his private and personal character was 
held in the highest degi'ee of attachment and veneration ; and we know, too, 
where his measures were opposed, his ser\ices slighted, and his character 
vilhfied. 

We know, or we might know, if we turn to the journals, who expressed 
respect, gratitude, and regret, when he retired from the chief magistracy ; and 
who refused to express either respect, gi-atitude or regret. I shall not open 
those journals. Publications more abusive or scurrilous never saw the light 
than were sent forth against Washington, and all his leading measures, from 
presses south of New England ; but I shah not look them up. I employ no 
scavengers — no one is in attendance on me, tendering such means of retalia- 
tion ; and if there were, with an ass's load of them, with a bulk as huge as 
that which the gentleman himself has produced, I would not touch one of 
them, I see enough of the violence of our own times to be no way anxious 
to rescue from forgetfulness the extravagances of times past. Besides, what is 
all this to the present pui-jDose ? It has nothing to do with the public lands, 
in regard to which the attack was begun ; and it has nothing to do with those 
sentiments and opinions, Avhich I have thought tend to disunion, and all of 
which the honorable member seems to have adopted himself, and undertaken 
to defend. New England has, at times, — so argues the gentleman, — held 
opinions as dangerous as those which he now holds. Be it so. But why, 
therefore, does he abuse New England ? If he finds himself countenanced by 
acts of hers, how is it that, while he reUes on these acts, he covers, or seeks to 
cover, their authors with reproach ? 

But, su', if, in the course of forty years, there have been undue eServescences 
of party in New England, has the same thing happened no where else ? 
Party animosity aud party outrage, not in New England, but elsewhere, 
denounced President WashingtoH, not only as a federalist, but as a tory, a 
British agent, a man who, in his high office, sanctioned corruption. But does 
the lionorablo member suppose that, if I had a tender here, who should put 
such an efltusion of wickedness and folly in my hand, that I would stand up 
and read it against the south ? Parties ran into great heats, again, in 1799. 
What was said, sir, or rather what was not said, in those years, against John 
Adams, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and its admit- 
ted ablest defender on the floor of Congress ? If the gentleman wants to 



197 

increase his stores of pai-ty abuse and frotliy violence, if he has a determined 
proclivity to such pursuits, there are treasures of that sort south of the Potomac, 
much to his taste, yet untouched. I shall not touch tbem. 

The parties which divided the country, at the coninicnccment of the late 
war, were violent. But, then, there was violence on both sides, and violence in 
every state. Minorities and majorities were equally \i(ilent. Tliore was no 
more violence against the war in New England than in other states; nor any 
more appearance of violence, except that, owing to a dense population, greater 
facility for assembling, and more presses, there may haxQ been more, in (pianti- 
ty, spoken and printed there than in some other places. In the article of 
sermons, too, New England is somewhat more abundant than South Carohna; 
and for that reason, the chance of finding here and there an exceptionable one 
may be greater. I hope too, there are more good ones. Opposition may 
have been more formidable in New England, as it embraced a la)-ger portion 
ofWie whole popidation ; but it was no more unrestrained in its principle, or 
violent in manner. The minorities dealt quite as harshly with their own state 
governments as the majorities dealt with the administration here. There were 
presses on both sides, popular meetings on both sides, ay, and pulpits on both 
sides, also. The gentleman's purveyors have only catered for him among the 
productions of one side. I certainly shall not supply the deficiency by furnish- 
ing samples of the other. I leave to him, and to them, the whole concern. 

It is enough for me to say, that if, in any part of this, their grateful occupa- 
tion — if in all their researches — they find anything in the history of Mjissa- 
chusetts, or New England, or in the proceedings of any legislative or other 
public body, disloyal to the Union, speaking slightly of its value, proposing to 
break it up, or recommending non-intercoui-se with neighboring states, on 
account of difference of political opinion, then, sir, I give them all up to the 
honorable gentleman's unrestrained rebuke ; expecting, however, that he will 
extend his buffetings, in like manner, to all similar proceedings, wherever else 
found. 

The gentleman, sir, haa spoken at large of former parties, now no longer in 
being, by their received appellations, and has undertaken to instruct us, not 
onl)' in the knowledge of their principles, but of their respective pedigrees ako. 
He has ascended to theh origin, and run out their genealogies. With most 
exemplary modesty, he speaks of the party to which he professes to ha\e 
belonged himself, as the true, i^ure, the only honest, jiatriotic party, derived hy 
regular descent, from father to son, from the time of the virtuous Romans ! 
Spreading before us the family tree of political parties, he takes especial care 
to show himself snugly perched on a popular bough ! He is wakeful to the 
expediency of adopting such rules of descent, for political parties, as shall bring 
him in, in exclusion of othei-s, as an heir to the inheritance of all pubhc virtue, 
and all true political princijjles. His doxy is always orthodoxy. Heterodoxy 
is confined to his opponent!. He spoke, sir, of the federalists, and I thought I 
saw some eyes begin to open and stare a little, when ho Acntured on that 
grovmd. I expected he would draw his sketches rather lightly, when he 
looked on the circle round him, and especially if h-o should cast his thoughts 
to the high places out of the Senate. Ne\'ertheless, he went back to Rome, 
ad annum urhiscondita, and found the fjithei-s of the federalists in the prime- 
val aristocrats of that reno'mied emphe ! He ti-aced the flow of federal blood 
down through successive ages and centuries, till he got into the veins of the 
American tories, (of whom, by the way, there were twenty in the Carolinas 
for one in Massachusetts.) Fi-om the tories, he followed it to the federalists ; 



198 

and as tlie federal party was broken up, and there was no possibility of trans- 
mitting it farther on this side of the Atlantic, he seems to have discovered that 
it has gone ofij coUaterally, though against all the canons of descent, into the 
ultras of France, and finally became extinguished, like exploded gas, among 
the adherents of Don Miguel. 

This, sir, is an abstract of the gentleman's history of federalism. I am not 
about to controvert it. It is not, at present, worth the pains of refutation, 
because, sir, if at this day one feels the sin of federalism lying heavily on his 
conscience, ho can easily obtain remission. He may even have an indulo-ence, 
if he is deskous of repeating the transgression. It is an aflair of no difiiculty 
to get into this same right line of patriotic descent. A man, nowadays, is at 
hberty to choose his political parentage. He may elect his own fether. 
Federalist or not, he may, if he choose, claim to belong to the favored stock, 
and his claim will be allowed. He may carry back his pretensions just as far 
as the honorable gentleman himself; nay, he may make himself out the 1^- 
orable gentleman's cousin, and prove satisfactorily that he is descended from 
the same political great-grandfather. All this is allowable. We all know a 
process, sir, by which the whole Essex Junto could, in one hour, be aU washed 
white from their ancient federalism, and come out every one of them, an orig- 
inal democrat, dyed in the wool ! Some of tiem have actually undergone the 
operation, and they say it is quite easy. The only inconvenience it occasions, 
as they tell us, is a slight tendency of the blood to the face, a soft suffusion, 
which, however, is very transient, since nothing is said calculated to deepen the 
red on the cheek, but a prudent silence observed in regard to aU the past. 
Indeed, sir, some smiles of approbation have been bestowed, and some crumbs 
of comfort have fallen, not a thousand miles from the door of the Hartford 
Convention itself. And if the author of the ordinance of 1787 possessed the 
other requisite qualifications, there is no knowing, notwithstanding his federal- 
ism, to what heights of favor he might not yet attain. 

Mr. President, in carrying his warfare, such as it was, into New England, 
the honorable gentleman all along professes to be acting on the defensive. He 
desires to consider me as having assailed South Carolina, and insists that he 
comes forth only as her champion, and in her defence. Sir, I do not admit 
that I made any attack whatever on South CaroUna. Nothing like it. The 
honorable member, in his first speech, expressed opinions, in regard to revenue, 
and some other topics, which I heard both with pain and surprise. I told the 
gentleman that I was aware that such sentiments were entertained out of the 
government, but had not expected to find them advanced in it ; that I knew 
there were persons in the south who speak of our Union with inditlereuce, or 
doubt, taking pains to magnify its evils, and to say nothing of its benefits ; 
that the honorable member himself, I was sure, could never be one of these ; 
and I regretted the expression of such opinions as he had avowed, because 1 
thought their obvious tendency was to encourage feelings of disrespect to the 
Union, and to weaken its connection. This, sir, is the sum and substance of all 
I said on the subject. And this constitutes the attack which called on the 
chivaliy of the gentleman, in his opinion, to harry us with such a forage among 
the party pamphlets and party proceedings of Massachusetts. If lie means 
that I spoke with dissatisfaction or disrespect of the ebullitions of individuals 
in South Carolina, it is tnie. But, if he means that I had assailed the char- 
acter of the state, her honor, or patriotism, that I had i-efloctcd on her history 
or her conduct, he had not the slightest ground for any such assumption. I 
did not even refer, I think, in my observations, to any collection of individuals. 



199 

I said nothing of the recent conventions. I spoke in the most guurdod and 
careful manner, and only expressed my regret for the publication of oj)inions 
which I presumed the honorable member disapproved as nmch as myself. lu 
this, it seems, I was mistaken. 

I do not remember that the gentleman has disclaimed any sentiment, or 
any opinion, of a supposed anti-Union tendency, which on all or any of the 
recent occasions has been expressed. The whole drift of his speech h;is been 
rather to prove, that, in divers times and mannei-s, sentiments equally liable to 
objection have been promulgated in New England. And one would suppose 
that his object, in this reference to Massachusetts, was to find a precedent to 
justify proceedings in the south, were it not for the reproach and contumely 
with which he labors, all along, to load his precedents. 

By way of defending South CaroUna from what he chooses to think an 
attack on her, he fii-st quotes the example of Massachusetts, and then denoun- 
ces that example, in good set terms. This twofold purpose, not very consistent 
with itseltj one would think, was exhibited more than once in the course of 
his speech. He referred, for instance, to the Hartford Convention. Did he 
do this for authority, or for a topic of reproach ? Apparently for both ; foi* he 
told us that he shoidd find no fault with the mere fact of holding such a 
convention, and considering and discussing such questions as he supposes were 
then and there discussed ; but what rendered it obnoxious was the time it was 
liolden, and the circumstances of the countiy then existing. We were in a 
war, he said, and the country needed all our aid ; the hand of government 
required to be strengthened, not weakened; and patriotism should hava 
postponed such proceedings to another day. The thing itself, then, is a pre- 
cedent : the time and manner of it, only, subject of censm-e. 

Now, sir, I go much farther, on this point, than the honorable member. 
Supposing, as the gentleman seems to, that the Hartford Convention assem- 
bled for any such purpose as breaking up the Union, because they thought 
imconstitutional laws had been passed, or to concert on that subject, or to 
calculate the value of the Union ; supposing this to be their purpose, or anj 
part of it, then I say the meeting itself was disloyal, and obnoxious to censure, 
whether held in time of peace, or time of war, or under whate^'er circumstan- 
ces. The material matter is the object. Is dissolution the object ? If it be, 
external circumstances may make it a more or less aggravated case, but cannoi, 
affect the principle. I do not hold, therefore, that the Hartford Convention 
was pardonable, even to the extent of the gentleman's admission, if its objects 
were really such as have been imputed to it. Sir, there never was a time, 
under any degree of excitement, in which the Hartford Convention, or any 
other convention, could maintain itself one moment in New England, if :\ssem- 
bled for any such pui-pose as the gentleman says would have been an allowable 
purpose. To hold conventions to decide questions of constitutional law I to 
try the validity of statutes, by votes in a convention! Su-, the Hartford Con- 
vention, I presume, would not desire that the honorable gentleman should be 
their defender or advocate, if be puta their case upon such untenable and 
extravagant grounds. 

Then, sir, the gentleman has no fault to find with these recently-promulga- 
ted South Carolina opinions. And, certainly, he need have none ; for his own 
sentiments, as now advanced, and advanced on reflection, as far as I have been 
able to comprehend them, go the full length of all these opinions. I j^ropose, 
8U', to say something on these, and to considei- how far they are just and con- 



200 

stitutional. Before doing that, however, let me observe, that the eulogium 
pronounced on the character of the state of South Carolina, by the honora- 
ble gentleman, for her revolutionary and other merits, meets my hearty con- 
cui-rence. I shall not acknowledge that the honorable member goes before 
me in regard for whatever of distinguished talent or distinguished character 
South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the 
prid-e, of her gi-eat names. I claim them for countrymen, one and aU. The 
Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Marions — Ameri- 
cans all — whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by state lines than their 
talents and their patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within the 
same narrow limits. In their day and generation, they served and honored 
the country, and the whole coimtry ; and their renown is 6f the treasures of 
the whole country. Him whose honored name the gentleman himself bears 
— does he suppose me less capable of gi'atitude for his patriotism, or sympa- 
thy for his sutferings, than if his eyes had first opened upon the light in Mas- 
sachusetts instead of South Carolina ? Sir, does he suppose it is in his power 
to exhibit a Carohna name so bright as to produce envy in my bosom ? No, 
su', increased gratification and delight, rather. 

Sir, I thank God that if I am gifted with Httle of the spirit which is said 
to be able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as 1 trust, of that other 
spirit , which woidd di-ag angels down. When I shall be found, sir, in my 
place here in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because it hap- 
pened to spring up beyond the little limits of my own state, or neighborhood ; 
when I refuse, for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to Ameri- 
can talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion to hberty and the coun- 
tr}^ ; or if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven, if I see extraordinary 
capacity and virtue in any son of the south, and if, moved by local prejudice, 
or gangrened by state jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair fi-om 
his just character and just fame, — may my tongue cleave to the roof of my 
mouth ! Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections ; let me indulge in refresh- 
ing remembrance of the past ; let m^ remind you that in early times no states 
cherished greater harmony, both of principle and feehng, than Massachusetts 
and South Carolina. Would to God that harmony might again retuni. 
Shoulder to shoulder they went through the revolution ; hand in hand they 
stood round the administration of Washington, and felt his own great arm 
lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, alienation, and distrust 
are the growth, unnatural to such soils, of false principles since sown. They 
are weeds, the seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. 

Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts — she 
needs nor^. There she is — behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is 
her history — the woiid knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. 
There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill ; and there 
they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle 
for independence, now lie mingled witli the soil of every state from New Eng- 
land to Georgia ; and there they will he forever. And, sir, where American 
liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, 
there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. 
If discord and disunion shall wound it; if fully and madness, if mieasiness 
under salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed to sej^arate it frorfi that 
Union by which akme its existence is made sure, — it will stand, in the end, 
by tiie side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch 
forth its arm, with Avhatever vigor it may still retain, over the friends who 



201 

gatlier aroimd it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest 
monuments of its glory, and on the very spot of its origin. 

There yet remains to bo performed, Mr. President, by far th<? m»st grave 
and impoitant duty ; wliich I feel to bo devolved on me by this occasion. It 
is to state, and to defend, what I conceive to be the true principles of the con- 
stitution under which we are here assembled. I might well have desired 
that so weighty a task should have fallen into other and abler hands, I could 
have wished that it should have been executed by those whose character and 
experience give weight and influence to then- opinions, such as cannot possibly 
belong to mine. But, sir, I have met the occasion, not sought it ; and I shall 
proceed to state my own sentiments, without challenging for them any paiti- 
cular regard, with studied plainness and as much precision as possible. 

I understand the honorable gentleman from South Carolina to maintain 
that it is a right of the state, legislatures to interfere, whenever, in their judg- 
ment, this government transcends its constitutional hmits, and to arrest the 
operation of its laws. 

I undei-stand him to maintain this rio;ht as a rio-ht existinor under the con- 
stitution, not as a right to overthrow it, on the ground of extreme necessity, 
such as would justify violent revolution. 

I understand him to maintain an authority, on the part of the states, thus 
to inte«-fere, for the purpose of correcting the exercise of power by the general 
government, of checking it, and of compellmg it to conform to theh opinion 
of the extent of its power. 

I understand him to maintain that the ultimate power of judo^ing of th.^ 
constitutional extent of its own authority is not lodged exclusively in the 
general government or any branch of it; but that, on the contrary, the 
states may lawfully decide for themselves, and each state for itself, 
whether, in a given case, the act of the general government transcends its 
power. 

' I undertand him to insist that, if the exigency of the case, in the opinion 
of any state govei-nment, requhe it, such state government may, by its own 
sovereign authority, annul an act of the general government winch it deems 
plainly and palpably unconstitutionaL 

This is the sum of what I understand from him to be the South Carolina 
doctrine. I propose to consider it, and to compai'O it with the constitution. 
Allow me to say, as a prehminary remark, that I call this the South Carolina 
doctrine, only because the gentleman himself has so denominated it. I do 
not feel at liberty to say that South Carolina, as a state, has ever advanced 
these sentiments. I hope she has not, and never may. That a great majority 
of her people are opposed to the tariff laws is doubtless tnie. That a majority 
ty, somewhat less than that just mentioned, conscientiously behe\e these laws 
unconstitutional, may probably be also tme. But that any majority holds to 
the right of direct state interference, at state discretion, the j-ight of nulhfy- 
ing acts of Congress by acts of state legislation, is more than I know, an 1 
what I shaU be slow to believe. 

That there are individuals, besides the honorable gentleman, who do main- 
tain these opinions, is quite certain. I recollect the recent expreasion of a 
sentiment which circumstances attending its utterance and publication 
justify us in supposing was not unpremeditated — " The sovereignty of the 
state ; never to be controlled, construed, or decided on. but bv her own feelings 
of honorable justice." 

[Ml-. Havne here rose, and said, that, for the purpose of being clearly un- 



202 

derstood, lie would state that his proposition was in the words of the Virginia 
resolution, as follows : — 

" That this Assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily declare, that it views 
the powers of the federal government, as resulting from the compact, to which 
the states are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of the instru- 
ment constituting that compact, as no further vahd than they are authorized 
by the grants enumerated in that compact; and that, in case of a deliberate, 
palpable, and dangerous exercise of other powers not granted by the same 
compact, the states Avho are parties thereto have the right and are in duty 
bound, to interpose for arresting the progress of the evil, and for maintaining, 
within their respective limits, the authorities, rights, and hberties pertaining 
to them."] 

Mr. Webster resumed : — 

I am quite aware, Mr. President, of the existence of the resolution which 
the gentleman read, and has now repeated, and 'that he rehes on it as his au- 
thority. I know the source, too, from which it is midertsood to have pro- 
ceeded. I need not say, that I have much respect for the constitutional opin- 
ions of ]\Ir. Madison ; they would weigh greatly with me, always. But, be- 
fore the authority ^of his opinion be vouched for the gentleman's proposition, 
it will be proper to consider what is the fair interpretation of that resolution, 
to which Mr. Madison is understood to have given his sanction. As the gen- 
tleman construes it, it is an authority for him. Possibly he may ndl have 
adopted the right construction. That resolution declares, that in the case of 
the dangerous exercise of powers not granted hy the general government, 
the states may interpose to arrest the progress of the evil. But how inter- 
pose ? and what does this declaration purport ? Does it mean no more than 
that there may be extreme cases in which the people, in any mode of assem- 
bling, may resist usurpation, and relieve themselves froni a tyrannical govern- 
ment ? No one will deny this. Such resistance is not only acknowledged to 
be just in America, but in England also. Blackstono admits as much, in the 
theory and pivactice, too, of the English constitution. We, sir, who oppose 
the Carolina doctrine, do not deny that the people may, if they choose, throw 
off any government, when it becomes oppressive and intolerable, and erect a 
better in its stead. We all know that civil institutions are established for the 
public benefit, and that, when they cease to answer the ends of their existence 
they may be changed. 

But I do not understand the doctrine now contended for to be that which, 
for the sake of distinctness, we may call the right of revolution. I under- 
stand the gentleman to maintain, that without revolution, without civil com- 
motion, without rebellion, a remedy for supposed abuse and transgression of 
the powers of the general government lies in a direct appeal to the interfer- 
ence of the state governments. [Mr. Hayne here rose : He did not con- 
tend, he said, for the mere right of revolution, but for the right of constitu- 
tional resistance. What he maintained was, that, in case of a plain, palpable 
violation of the constitution by the general government, a state may inter- 
pose ; and that this interposition is constitutional.] 

Mr. Webster resumed : — 

So, sir, I understood the gentleman, and am happy to find that I did not 
misunderstand him. What he contends for is, that it is constitutional to in- 
terrupt the administration of the constitution itself, in the hands of those who 
are chosen and sworn to administer it, by the direct interference, in form of 
law, of the states, in vhtue of their sovereign capacity. The inherent right in 



203 

khe people to reform their government I do not deny ; and that they have 
another right, and that is, to resist unconstitutional laws without overturning 
the government. It is no doctrine of mine, that unconstitutional laws hind 
the people. The great question is, Whose prerogative is it to decide on the 
constitutionality or unconstitutionality of the laws? On that the main de- 
bate hinges. The proposition that, in case of a supposed violation of tlie con- 
stitution by Congress, the states have a constitutional right to iuterfere, and 
annul the law of Congress, is the proposition of the gentleman ; I do not ad- 
mit it. If the gentleman had intended no more than to assert the right of 
revolution for jiistifiiable cause, he would ha\e said only what all agree to. — 
But I cannot conceive that there can be a middle com-se between submis- 
sion to the laws, when regularly pronounced constitutional, on the one hand, 
and open resistance, which is revolution or rebellion, on the other. I say the 
riffht of a state to annul a law of Cono-ress cannot be maintained but on the 
ground of the unalienable right of .man to resist oppression; that is to say, 
upon the ground of revolution. I admit that there is no ultimate violent 
remedy, above the constitution, and in defiance of the constitution, which may 
be resorted to, when a revolution is to be justified. But I do not admit that 
under the constitution, and in conformity with it, there is any mode in which 
a state government, as a member of the Union, can interfere and stop the pro- 
giess of the general government, by force of her own laws, under any cir- 
cumstances whatever. 

This leads us to inquire into the origin of this government, and the source 
of its power. Whose agent is it ? Is it the creature of the state legislatures, 
or the creature of the people ? If the government of the United States be 
the agent of the state governments, then they may control it, provided they 
can agree in the manner of controlling it; if it is the agent of the people, 
then the people alone can control it, restrain it, modify or refonii it. It is ob- 
servable enough, that the doctrine for which the honorable gentleman con- 
tends leads him to the necessity of maintaining, not only that this general 
government is the creature of the states, but that it is the creature of each of 
the states severally ; so that each may assert the power, for itself, of dctermin- 
iug whether it acts within the limits of its authority. It is the servant of four 
and twenty masters, of diflerent wills and difiereut purposes ; and yet bound 
to obey all. This absiu-dity (for it seems no less) arises from a misconception 
as to the origin of this government, and its true chai-acter. It is, sir, the peo- 
ple's constitution, the people's government ; made for the people ; made by the 
people ; and answerable to the people. The people of the United States have 
declared that this constitution shall be the supreme law. We must either ad- 
mit the proposition, or dispute their authority. The states are unquestionably 
so\-ereign, so far as their sovereignty is not affected by this supreme law. The 
state legislatures, as political bodies, however sovereign, are yet not sovereign 
over the people. So far as the people have given power to the general gov- 
ernment, so far the grant is unquestionably good, and the government holds 
of the people, and not of tlie state governments. We are all agents of tho 
same supreme power, the people. The general government and the state gov- 
ernments derive their authority from the same source. Neither can, in rela- 
tion to the other, be called primaiy ; though one is definite and restricted, and 
the other general and residuary, 

Tho national government possesses those powers which it can be shown the 
people ha\e conferred on it, and no more. All the rest belongs to the state 
governments, or to the people themselves. So fai- as the people have restrain- 



204 

ed state sovereignty by tlie expression of their "will, in the constitution of the 
United States, so far, it must be admitted, state sovereignty is effectually c*>n- 
ti'oUed. I do not contend that it is, or ought to be, controlled further. The 
sentiment to which I have referred propounds that state sovereignty is only to 
be controlled by its o\vn "feelings of justice;" that is to say, it is not to be 
controlled at all ; for one who is to follow his feelings, is under no legal con- 
trol. Now, how^ever men may think this ought to be, the fact is, that the peo- 
ple of the United States have chosen to impose control on state sovereignties. 
The constitution has ordered the matter diflerently from what this opinion an- 
nounces. To make war, for instance, is an exercise of sovereignty ; but the 
constitution declares that no state shall make war. To coin money is another 
exercise of sovereign power ; but no state is at hberty to coin money. Again : 
the constitution says, that no sovereign state shall be so sovereign as to make a 
treaty. These prohibitions, it must be confessed, are a control on the state 
sovereignty of South Carohna, as well as /)f the other states, which does not 
arise "from feehngs of honorable justice." Such an opinion, therefore, is in 
defiance of the plainest provisions of the constitution. 

There are other proceedings of public bodies which have already been al- 
luded to, and to which I refer again for the purpose of ascertaining more ful- 
ly what is the length and breadth of that doctrine, denominated the Carolina 
doctrine, which the honorable member has now stood np on this floor to 
maintain. 

In one of them I find it resolved that " the tariff of 1828, and every other 
tariff designed to promote one branch of industry at the expense of others, 
is contrary to the meaning and intention of the fedei'al compact ; and as such 
a dangerous, palpable, and deliberate usurpation of powder, by a determined 
majority, wielding the general government beyond the limits of its delegated 
powers, as calls upon the states which compose the suffering minority, in their 
sovereign capacity, to exercise the powers which, as sovereigns, necessarily de- 
volve upon them, when their compact is violated." 

Observe, sir, that this resolution holds the tariff of 1828, and every other 
tarift" designed to promote one branch of industry at the expense of another, 
to be such a dangerous, palpable, and deliberate usurpation of power, as calls 
upon the states, in their sovereign capacity, to interfere, by their own power. 
This denunciation, Mr. President, you will please to observe, includes our old 
tariff of 1816, as well as all others; because that was established to promote 
the interest of the manufacturers of cotton, to the manifest and admitted injurv 
of the Calcutta cotton trade. Observe, again, that all the qualifications are 
here rehearsed, and charged upon the tariff, which are necessary to bring the 
case within the gentleman's proposition. The tariff is a usurjiatiou ; it is a 
dangerous usui-pation ; it is a palpable usurpation ; it is a deliberate xisuii-)a- 
tion. It is such a usurpation as calls upon the states to exercise their right 
of intcrferance. Hero is a case, then, within the gentleman's principles, and 
all his qualifications of his principles. It is a case for action. The constitu- 
tion is plainly, dangerously, palpably, and deliberately violated ; and the states 
must interpose their own authority to arrest the law. Let us sui)pose the 
state of South Carolina to express this same opinion, by the voice of her le- 
gislature. That would be very imposing ; but what then ? Is the voice of 
one state conclusive ? It so happens that, at the very moment when South 
Carolina resolves that the tariff laws are unconstitutional, Pennsylvania ana 
Kentucky resolve exactly the revei-se. They hold those laws to be both high- 
ly proper and strictly constitutional. And now, sii, how does the honorabk 



205 

member propose to deal with tliis case? How does ho get out of this diffi- 
culty, upon any principle of his? His construction gets us into it; how does 
he pro])ose to get us out ? 

In Carolina, the tariff is a palpable, dehborate usurpation; Carohna, there- 
fore, may nuUify it, and refuse to pay the duties. In Pennsylvania, it is both 
clearly constitutional and highly expedient; and there the duties are to be 
paid. And yet we hve under a government of uniform laws, and under a 
constitution, too, which contams an express provision, as it happens, that all 
duties shall be equal in all the states! Does not this approach absurdity? 

If there be no power to settle such questions, independent of either of the 
states, is not the whole Union a rope of sand ? Ai-e we not thi'own back again 
precisely upon the old confederation ? 

It is too plain to be argued. Four and twenty interpreters of constitution- 
al law, each with a power to decide for itself, and none with authority to bind 
anybody else, and this constitutional law the only bond of their imion ! What 
is such a state of things but a mere connection during pleasure, or, to use the 
phraseology of the times, during feeling ? And that feeling, too, not the feel- 
ing of the people who estabhshed the constitution, but the feeUng of the state 
governments. . . 

In another of the South Cai-ohna addi-esses, having premised that the crisis 
requhes " all the concentrated energy of passion," an attitude of open resis- 
tance to the laws of the Union is advised. Open resistance to the laws, then, 
is the constitutional remedy, the conservative power of the state, which the 
South Carohna doctrmes teach for the redi-ess of political evils, real or imagi- 
naiy. And its authors further say that, appealing with confidence to the 
constitution itself to justify their opinions, they cannot consent to try their ac- 
curacy by the courts of justice. In one sense, indeed, sh, this is assummg an 
attitude of open resistance in favor of libei-ty. But what sort of liberty ? The 
hberty of establishing theh own opinions, in defiance of the opinions of ah 
othei-s; the liberty of judging and of deciding exclusively themselves, in a 
matter in which others have i\s> much right to judge and decide as they; the 
liberty of placing their opinions above the judgment of all others, above the 
laws, and above the constitution. This is their liberty, and this is the fuh re- 
sult of the proposition contended for by the honorable gentleman. Or U may 
be more properly said, it is identical with it, rather than a result from it. _ In 
the same publication we find the following: "Previously to our revolution, 
when the arm of oppression was stretched over New England, where didour 
northern brethren meet with a braver sympathy than that which sprung from 
the bosom of Carolmians? We had no extortion, no oppression, no collision 
with the king's ministers, no navigation interests springing vp, in envious 
rivalry of England^ , , • i i 

This seems extraordinaiy language. South Carolina no culhsion with the 
king's ministers in 1775! no extortion! no oppression! Eut, sir, it is also 
most significant language. Does any man doubt the purpose for which it 
was penned ? Can any one fail to see that it was designed to raise in the 
reader's mind the question, whether, at this time, — thai is to say, in 1828,— 
South Carolina has any collision with the king's ministers, any oppression, or 
extortion, to fear from England ? whether, in &.hort, Enghuid is not as natural- 
ly the friend of South Carolina as New England, with her navigaiion inter- 
ests springing up in envious rivalry of England ? 

Is it not strange, sir, that an intelligent man in South Carolina, in 1828, 
ehould thus labor to prove, that in 1775, there was no hostihty, no cause of 



206 

wai, between Soutli Carolina and England ? that she had to occasion, in re- 
ference to her own interest, or from a regard to her o-v\ti welfare, to take up 
arms in the revoliitionaiy contest ? Can any one account for the expression of 
such strange sentiments, and their circulation through the state, othervsdse than 
by supposing the object to be, what I have akeady intimated, to raise the 
question, if they had no " tolUsion " (mark the expression) with the ministers 
of King George the Third, in lV7o, what collision have they, in 1828, with 
the ministers of King George the Fourth ? What is there now, in the exist- 
ing state of things, to separate Carohna from Old, more, or rather less, than 
fi'om New England ? 

Resolutions, sir, have been recently passed by the legislature of South Car- 
ohna. I need not refer to them ; they go no fmiher than the honorable gen- 
tleman himself has g-one — and I hope not so far. I content myself there- 
fore, with debating the matter with him. 

And now, sir, what I have fii'st to say on this subject is, that at no time, and 
under no circumstances, has New England, or any state in New England, or 
any respectable body of persons in New England, or any public man of stand- 
ing in New England, put forth such a doctrine as this Carolina doctrine. 

The gentleman has found no case — he can find none — to support his own 
opinions by New England authority. New England has studied the constitu- 
tion in other schools, and under other teachers. She looks upon it with other 
regards, and deems more highly and reverently, both of its just authority and 
its utility and excellence. The history of her legislative proceedings may be 
traced — the ephemeral effusions of temporary bodies, called together by the 
excitement of the occasion, may be hunted up — they have been hunted up. 
The opinions and votes of her public men, in and out of Congress, may be 
explored — it will all be in vain. The Carolina doctrine can derive from her 
neither countenance nor support. She rejects it now ; she always did reject 
it. The honorable member has referred to expressions on the subject of the 
embargo law, made in this place by an honorable and venerable gentleman 
(Mr. Hillhouse) now favoring us with his presence. He quotes that distin- 
guished senator as saying, that in his judgment the embargo law was uncon- 
stitutional, and that, therefore, in his opinion, the people were not bound to 
obey it. 

That, sir, is perfectly constitutional language. As imconstitutional law is 
not binding; but then it does not rest toith a resolution or a law of a state 
legislature to decide whether an act of Congress be or be not constitutional. 
An unconstitutional act of Congress would not bind the people of this Dis- 
trict although they have no legislature to interfere in their behalf; and, on 
the other hand, a constitutional law of Congress does bind the citizens of 
eveiy state, although all their legislatures should undertake to annul it, by act 
or resolution. The venerable Connecticut senator is a constitutional lawyer," 
of sound principles and enlarged knowledge ; a statesman pi-acticed and ex- 
perienced, bred in the company of Washington, and holding just views upon 
the nature of our governments. He believed the embargo unconstitutional, 
and so did others; but what then ? Who did ho suppose was to decide that 
question ? The state legislature ? Certainly not. No such sentiment ever 
escaped his lips. Let us follow up, sir, this New England opposition to the 
embargo laws ; let us trace it, till we discern the principle which controlled 
and governed New England throughout the whole course of that opposition 
We shall then see what similarity there is between the New England school 
of constitutional opinions and this modem Carolina school. The gentleman, 



207 

I think, read a petition from some single individual, addressed to the legisla- 
ture of Mjissachusetts, asserting the Carolina doctrine — that is, the right of 
state interference to arrest the hiws of the Union. The fate of that petition 
shows the sentiment of the legislatui-e. It met no lavor. The opinions of 
Massachusetts were othei-wise. They had been expressed in 1798, in answer 
to the resolutions of Virginia, and she did not depart from them, nor bend 
them to the times. Misgoverned, wronged, oppresseil, as she felt herself to 
be, she still held fast her integrity to the Union. The gentleman may find in 
her proceedings much evidence of dissatisfaction with the measures of gov- 
ernment, and great and deep dislike, she claimed no right still to sever asund- 
der the bonds of the "Union. There was heat, and there was anger in her 
poHtical feehng. Be it so. Her heat or her anger did not, nevertheless, be- 
tray her into infidelity to the government The gentleman laboi-s to prove 
that she dishked the embargo as much as South Carolina dishkes the taril^ 
and expressed her dislike as sti'ongly. Be it so; but did she propose the 
Carolina remedy? Did she threaten to interfere, hj state authority, to an- 
nul the laws of the Union? That is the question for the gentleman's con- 
sideration. 

No doubt, sir, a great majority of the people of New England conscien- 
tiously believe the embargo law of 1807 unconstitutional — as conscientiously, 
certainly, as the people of South Carolina hold that opinion of the tarilF. — 
They reasoned thus : Congi-ess has power to regidate commerce ; but here is 
a law, they said, stopping all commerce, and stopping it indefinitely. The 
law is perpetual, therefore, as the law against treason or murder. Now, is this 
regulating commerce, or destroying it ? Is it guiding, controling, giving the 
rule to commerce, as a subsistmg thing, or is it putting an end to it alto- 
gether ? Nothing is more ceitain than that a majority in New England 
deemed this law a violation of the constitution. This veiy case required by 
the gentleman to justify state interference had then arisen. Miissachusetts be- 
heved this law to be " a deliberate, jyalpaUc, and dangerous exercise of a 
power not granted by the constitution^ Deliberate it Avas, for it was long 
continued ; palpable she thought it, as no words in the constitution gave the 
power, and only a construction, in her opinion most violent, raised it ; danger- 
ous it was, since it .threatened utter ruin to her most important interests. 
Here, then, was a Carohna case. How did Massachusetts deal with it ? It 
was, as she thought, a plain, manifest, palpable violation of the constitutit n ; 
and it brought ruin to her dooi's. Thousands of families, and hundreds of 
thousands of individuals, were beggared by it. While she saw and felt .all 
this, she saw and felt, also, that as a measure of national policy, it was perfect- 
ly futile ; that the country was no way benefitted bv that which caused so 
much indindual distress; that it was efiicient only for the production of evil, 
and all that evil inflicted on oui-seh'es. In such a case, under such circum- 
stances, how did Massachusetts demean herself? Sir, she remonstrated, she 
memorialized, she addressed herself to the general government, not exactly 
" with the concentrated energy of p;ission," but with her strong sense, and the 
energy of sober conviction. But she did not interpose the arm of her powei 
to arrest the law, and break the enibai-go. Far from it. Her jninciplea 
bound her to two things; and she followed her principles, lead where they 
might. Fii-st, to submit to every constitutional law of Congress; and second- 
ly, if the constitutional vahdity of the law be doubted, to refer that question 
to the decision of the proper tribunals. The fii-st principle is vain and inef- 
fectual without the second. A majority of us in New England beheved the 



208 

embargo law unconstitutional; but tlie gi-eat question was, and always will be 
in sucli cases, Who is to decide tliis? Who is to judge between the people 
and the government? And, sir, it is quite plain, that the constitution of the 
United States confers on the government itself, to be exercised by its appro- 
priate department, this power of deciding, ultimately and conclusively, upon 
the just extent of its own authority. If this had not been done, we should 
not have advanced a single step beyond the old confederation. 

Being fully of opinion that the embargo law was unconstitutional, the peo- 
ple of New England were yet equally clear m the opinion — it was a matter 
they did not doubt upon — that the question, after all, mast be decided by 
the judicial tribimak of the United States. Before those tribunals, there- 
fore, they brought the question. Under the provisions of the law, they had 
given bonds, to millions m amount, and which were alleged to be forteitod. 
They suffered the bonds to be sued, and thus raised the question. In the old- 
fashioned way of settling disputes, they went to law. The case came to hear- 
ing and solemn argument; and he who espoused their cause and stood up 
for them against the validity of the act, was none other than that great man, 
of whom the gentleman has made honorable mention, Samuel Dexter, 
Ho was then, sir, in the fullness of his knowledge and the maturity of his 
strength. He had retired from long and distinguished public service here, to 
the renewed pursuit of professional duties ; carrying with him aU that enlarge- 
ment and expaasion, all the new strength and force, which an acquaintance 
with the more general subjects discussed in the national councils is capable of 
adding to professional attainment, in a mind of true greatness and compre- 
hension. He was a lawyer, and he was also a statesman. He had studied 
the constitution, when he filled public station, that he might defend it; he had 
examined its prmciples, that he might maintam them. More than all men, or 
at least as much as any man, he was attached to the general government, and 
to the union of the states. His feeluigs and opinions all ran in that direction. 
A question of constitutional law, too, Avas, of all subjects, that one which Avas 
best siuted to his talents and learning. Aloof from technieahty, and unfet- 
tered by artificial rule, such a question gave opportunity for that deep and 
clear analysis, that mighty grasp of principle, which so much distinguished 
his higher eflbi-ts. His very statement was argument ; his inference seemed 
demonstration. The earnestness of his own conviction wrought conviction in 
others. One was convinced, and believed, and consented, because it Avas grati- 
fying, delightful, to think, and feel, and beheve, in unison with an intellect of 
such evident superiority. 

Mr. Dexter, sir, such as I have described him, argued the New England 
cause. He put mto his effort his whole heart, as Avell as all the powers of his 
xmderstanding; for he had avowed, in the most public manner, his entire con- 
cun-ence with his neighbors, on the point in dispute. He argued the cause ; 
it Avas lost, and 'New England submitted. The established tribunals pro- 
nounced the laAV constitutional, and New England acquiesed. Noav, sii, is 
not this the exact opposite of the doctrine of the gentleman from South Caro- 
lina ? According to him, instead of leferring to the judicial tribunals, Ave 
should have broken up the umbaj-go, by laA\-s of our OAvn ; we should have 
repealed it, quoad New England ; for Ave had a strong, palpable, and oppres- 
sive case. Sir, avo believe the embargo unconstitutional ; but still, that was 
matter of opinion, and who was to decide it? We thought it a clear caf-o; 
Dut, nevertlieless, we did not take the laAvs into our hands, because we did not 
wish to hring about a revolution, nor to break up the Union ; for I main- 



209 

tain, that, between submission to the decision of the constituted tribunajs, and 
revolution, or disunion, there is no middle gi-ound — there is no ambiguous 
condition, half allegiance and half rebellion. There is no treason, madcosy. 
And, sh-, how futile, how very futile it is, to admit the right of state interfer- 
ence, and then to attempt to save it from the charactor of unlawful resistance, 
by adding terms of qualification to the causes and occasions, leavmg all the 
qualifications, like the case itself, in the discretion of the state governments. 
It mu^ be a clear case, it is said ; a deliberate case ; a palpable case ; a dan- 
gerous case. But, then, the state is still left at hberty to decide for herself 
what is clear, what is dehberato, what is palpable, what is dangerous. 

Do adjectives and epithets avail any thing ? Sir, the human mind is so 
constituted, that the merits of both sides of a conti'oversy appear very clear, 
and very palpable, to those who respectively espouse them, and both sides 
usually grow clearer, as the controversy advances. South Carolina sees un- 
constitutionahty in the tariff — she sees oppression there, also, and she sees 
danger. Pennsylvania, with a vision not less shai-p, looks at the same tarifi", 
and sees no such thing in it — she sees it all constitutional, all useful, all safe. 
The faith of South Carolina is strengthened by opposition, and she now not 
only sees, but resolves, that the tariff is palpably unconstitutional, oppressive, 
and dangerous ; but Pennsylvania, not to be behind her neighbors, and equal- 
ly willing to strengthen her own faith by a confident asseveration, resolves al- 
so, and gives to every warm affii-mative of South Carohna, a plain downright 
Pennsylvania negative. South Carohna to show the strength and unity of 
her opmions, brings her assembly to a unanimity, within seven votes ; Penn- 
sylvania, not to be outdone in this respect more than others, reduces her dis- 
sentient fraction to one vote. Now, sir, again I ask the gentleman, what is 
to be done ? Are these states both right ? Is he bound to consider them 
both i-ight ? If not, which is in the wrong ? or, rather, which has the best 
right to decide ? 

And if he, and if I, are not to know what the constitution means, and what 
it is, tiU those two state legislatures, and the twenty-two others, shall agree in 
its constmction what have we sworn to, when we have swora to maintain it? 
I was forcibly struck, su-, with one reflection, as the gentleman went on with his 
speech. He quoted Mr. Madison's resolutions to prove that a state may inter- 
fere, in a case of deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of a power not 
granted. The honorable member supposes the tariff law to be such an exer- 
cise of power, and that consequently, a case has arisen in which the state 
may, if it see fit, interfere by its own law. Now, it so happens, nevertheless, 
that Madison himself deems this same tai-ifFlaw quite constitutional. Instead 
of a clear and palpable violation, it is, in his judgment, no violation at all. 
So that, while they use his authority for a hypothetical case, they i-eject it in 
the very case before them. All this, sir, shows the inherent futility. I had 
almost used a stronger word — of conceding this power of interference to ho 
states, and then attempting to secure it from abuse by imposing qualifications 
of which the states themselves are to judge. One of two things is true; 
either the laws of the Union are beyond the control of the states, or else we 
have no constitution of general government, and are thrust back again to the 
days of the confederacy. 

Let me here say, sir, that if the gentleman's doctrine had been received and 
acted upon in New England, in the times of the embargo and non-iiitercoui-se, 
we should probably not now have been here. The government would very 
Ukely have gone to pieces aud crumbled into dust. No stronger case can 

14 



210 

ever arise than existed under those laws , no states can ever entertain a clearer 
conviction than the New England States then entertained ; and if they had 
been under the influence of that heresy of opinion, as I must call it, which the 
honorable member espouses, this Union would, in all probability have been 
scattered to the foui- winds. I ask the gentleman, therefore, to apply his prin- 
ciples to that case ; I ask him to come forth and declare whether, in his opin- 
ion, the New England States would have been justified in interfering to break 
up the embargo system, under the conscientious opinions which he held upon 
it Had they a right to annul that law ? Does he admit, or deny? If that 
which is thought palbably imconstitutional in South Carolina justifies that 
state in an-esting the progress of the law, tell me whether that which was 
thought palpably unconstitutional also in Massachusetts would have justified 
her in doing the same thing. Sir, I deny the whole doctrine. It has not a 
foot of ground in the constitution to stand on. No public man of reputation 
ever advanced it m Massachusetts, in the warmest times, or could maintain 
himself upon it there at any time. 

I wish now, sir, to make a remark upon the Virginia resolutions of ll^QS. 
I cannot undertake to say how these resolutions wei'e underetood by those who 
passed them. Then- language is not a little indefinite. In the case of the ex- 
ercise, by Congi-ess, of a dangerous power, not granted to them, the resolu- 
tions assert the right, on the 2>art of the state to interfere, and an-est the pro- 
gress of the evil. This is susceptible of more than one into-pretation. It 
may mean no more than that the states may interfere by complaint and re- 
monstrance, or by proposing to the j^eople an alteration of the federal consti- 
tution. This would all be quite unobjectionable ; or it may be that no more 
is meant than to assert the general right of revolution, as against all govern- 
ments, in cases of intolerable oppression. This no one doubts; and this, in 
my opinion, is all that he who framed these resolutions could have meant by 
it; for I shall not readily beheve that he was ever of opinion that a state, un- 
der the constitution, and in conformity with it, could, upon the ground of her 
own opinion of its unconstitutionality, however clear and palpable she might 
think the case, annul a law of Congress, so far as it should operate on herself, 
by lier own legislative power. 

I must now beg to ask, sir. Whence is this supposed right of the states de- 
rived ? Where do they get the power to interfere with the laws of the Union ? 
Sir, the opinion which the honorable gentleman maintains is a notion founded 
in a total misapprehension, in my judgment, of the origin of this governmcDt, 
and of the foundation on which it stands. I hold it to be a popular govern- 
ment, erected by the people, those who administer it responsible to the people, 
and itself capable of being amended and modified, just as the people may 
choose it should be. It is as popular, just as truly emanating from the peo- 
ple, as the state govemments. It is created for one purpose ; the state gov- 
ernments for another. It has its own }X)wers ; they have theirs. There is no 
more authority with them to arrest the operation of a law of Congress, than 
with Congress to arrest the operation of their laws. We are here to adminis- 
ter a constitution emanating immediately from the people, and trusted by 
them to our administration. It is not the creature of the state governments. 
It is of no moment to the argument that certain acts of the state legislatures 
are necessary to fill our seats in this body. That is not one of their original 
state powers, a part of the sovereignty of the state. It is a duty which the 
people, by the constitution itself, have imposed on the state legislatures, and 
which they might have left to be perfonned elsewhere, if they had seen fit. 



211 

So they have left the choice of president with electors ; but all this does not 
affect the proposition that this whole government — President, Senate and 
House of Representatives — is a popular government. It leaves it still all its 
popular character. The governor of a state (in some of the states) is chosen 
not directly by the people for the piu-pose of performing-, among other duties, 
that of electing a governor. Is the government of the state on that account 
not a popular* government ? This government, sir, is the independent offspring 
of the popular •will. It is not the ci-eature of state legislatm'cs ; nay, more, if 
the whole truth must be told, the people brought it into existence, established 
it, and have hitherto supported it, for the very purpose, amongst others, of im- 
posing certain salutary restraints on state sovereignties. The states cannot now 
make war ; they cannot contract aUiances ; they cannot make, each for itself, 
separate regulations of commerce ; they cannot lay imposts ; they cannot coin 
money. If this constitution, sir, be the creatm'e of state legislatm-es, it must 
be admitted that it has obtained a sti'ange control over the vohtion of its 
creators. 

The people then, sir, erected this government. They gave it a constitution, 
and in that constitution they have enumerated the powei-s which they bestow 
on it. They have made it a limited government. They have defined its au- 
thority. They have restrained it to the exercise of such powers as are grant- 
ed ; and all othei-s, they declare, are reserved to the states or the people. But, 
sir, they have not stopped here. If they had, they would have accomphshed 
but half then- work. No definition can be so clear as to avoid possibility of 
doubt ; no hmitation so precise as to exclude aU uncertainty. Who, then, shall 
construe this grant of the people ? Who shall interpret their wil, where it 
may be supposed they have left it doubtful ? With whom do they leave this 
ultimate right of deciding on the powers of the government ? Sir, they have 
settled all this in the fullest manner. They have left it with the government 
itself, in its appropriate branches. Sir, the very chief end, the main design 
for which the whole constitution was fi-amed and adopted, was to establish a 
government that should not be obliged to act through state agency, or depend 
on state opinion and discretion. The people had had quite enough of that 
kind of government under the confederacy. Under that system, the legal 
action — the apphcation of law to individuals — belonged exclusively to the 
states. Congress could only recommend — their acts were not of binding 
force tin the states had adopted and sanctioned them. Are we in that con- 
dition still ? Are we yet at the mercy of state discretion and state construc- 
tion? Sir, if we are, then vain w'll be our attempt to maintain the constitu- 
tion under which we sit. 

But, sir, the people have wisely provided, in the constitution itself, a proper, 
suitable mode and tribunal for settling questions of constitutional law. There 
are, in the constitution, grants of powers to Congress, and restrict ons o i those 
powei"3. There are also prohibitions on the states. Some authority must 
therefore necessarily exist, having the ultimate jui-isdiction to fix and ascertain 
the interpretation of these grants, restrictions, and prohibitions. The constitu- 
tion has itself pointed out, ordained, and established that authority. How has 
it accomphshed this great and essential end? By declaring, sir, that '■^ the 
constitution and the laius of the United States, made in pursuance thereof, 
shall be the supreme law of the land,^any thing in the constitution or laws 
of any state to the contrary notwithstanding r 

This, sir, was the fii-st great step. By this, the supremacy of the constitution 
and laws of the United States is declared. The people so will it. No slato 



212 « 

law is to be valid which comes in conflict with the constitution or any law of 
the United States. But who shall decide this question of interference ? To 
whom lies the last appeal ? This, sir, the constitution itself decides also, by 
declaring "■that the judicial power shall extend to all cases arising wider the 
constitution and laws of the United States." These two provisions, sir, 
cover the whole ground. They are, in truth, the keystone of the arch. With 
these it is a government; without them it is a confederacy. In pui-suance of 
these clear and express provisions, Congress estabhshed, at its very first session, 
in the judicial act, a mode for carrying them into full eft'ect, and for bringing 
all questions of constitutional power to the final decision of the Supremo Couit. 
It then, sh, became a government. It then had the means of self-protection ; 
and but for this, it would, in all probability, have been now among things 
which are passed. Having constituted the government, and declared it'} 
powera, the people have fmlher said, that since somebody must decide on the 
extent of these powers, th« government shall itself decide — subject always 
hke other popular governments, to its responsibility to the people. And now, 
sir, I repeat, how is it that a state legislature acquires any right to interfere ? 
Who, or what, gives them the right to say to the people, " We, who are your, 
agents and servants for one pui^iose, will undei'take to decide, that your other 
agents and servants, appointed by you for another pui-pose, have transcended 
the authority you gave them " ? The reply would be, I think, not imperti- 
nent, " Who made you a judge over another's servants. To then* own masters 
they stand or faU." 

Sir, I deny this power of state legislatures altogether. It cannot stand the 
test of examination. Gentlemen may say, that, in an extreme case, a state 
government might protect the people from intolerable oppression. Sir, in 
such a case the people might protect themselves, without the aid of the state 
governments. Such a case warrants revolution. It must make, when it 
comes, a law for itself. A nullifying act of a state legislature cannot alter the 
case, nor make resistance any more lawful. In maintaining these sentiments, 
«u-, I am but assertmg the rights of the people. I state what they have 
declai'ed, and insist on their right to declare it. They have chosen to repose 
this power in the general government, and I think it my duty to support it, 
dke other constitutional powei-s. 

For myself, sir, I doubt the jurisdiction of South Carolina, or any other state, 
CO prescribe my constitutional duty, or to settle, between me and the people, 
the validity of laws of Congress for which I have ^oted. I decline her 
umpirage. I have not sworn to support the constitution according to her con- 
struction of its clauses. I have not stipulated, by m j oath of ofiice or otherwise, 
to come vmder any responsibility, except to the people and those whom they 
have appointed to pass upon the question, whether the laws, supported by my 
votes, conform to the constitution of the country. And, sir, if avo look to the 
general nature of the case, could any thing have been more preposterous than 
to have made a government for the whole Union, and yet left its powers 
•subject, not to one intei-pretation, but to thirteen or twenty-four interpretations ? 
Instead of one tribunal, established by all, responsible to all, with power to 
decide for all, shall constitutional questions be left to four and twenty popular 
bodies, each at liberty to decide for itself, and none bound to respect the 
decisions of others ; and each at liberty, too, to give a new construction, on 
every new election of its own members ? Would any thing, with such a prin- 
ciple i» it, or rather with such a destitution of all principle, be fit to be called 
4 government ? No, sir. It should not be denominated a constitution. It 



213 

X 

should be called, rather, a collectiou of topics for everlasting controversy; 
heads of debate for a disputatious people. It would not be a goveniment. It 
would not be adequate to auy practical good, nor fit for any country to live 
under. To avoid all possibility of being misunderstood, allow me to -repeat 
afain, in the fullest manner, that I claim no powere for the government by 
forced or unfair construction. I admit that it is a government of strictly lim- 
ited powers; of enumerated, specified, and particularised powei-s; and that 
whatsoever is not granted is withheld. But, notwithstanding all this, and 
however the grant of powers may be expressed, its limits and extent may yet, 
in some cases, admit of doubt ; and the general government would be good 
for nothing, it would be incapable of long existence, if some mode had not 
been provided in which those doubts, as they should arise, might be peacea- 
bly, but not authoritatively, solved. 

And now, Mr. President, let me run the honorable gentleman's doctrine a 
httle into its practical application. Let us look at his probable modus operandi. 
If a thing can be done, an ingenious man can tell hoio it is to be done. Now, 
I wish to be infonned hoxv this state interference is to be put in practice. We 
will take the existing case of the tariff law. South Carolina is said to have 
made up her opinion upon it. If we do not repeal it, (cTS we probably shall 
not,) she will then apply to the case the remedy of her doctiine. She will, 
we must suppose, pass a law of her legislatm-e, declaring the several acts of 
Congress, usually called the tariff laws, null and void, so far as they respec. 
South CaroUna, or the citizens thereof. So far, all is a paper transaction, and 
easy enough. But the collector at Charleston is collecting the duties imposed 
by these tariff laws — he, therefore, must be stopped. The collector will seize 
the goods if the tariff duties are not paid. The state authorities will imdei- 
take their rescue : the marshal, with his posse, will come to the collector's aid ; 
and here the contest begins. The mihtia of the state will be called out to 
sustain the nullifying act. They will march, su-, under a very gallant leader ; 
for I believe the honorable member himself commands the militia of tliat part 
of the state. He will raise the nullifying act on his standard, and s])i-ead 
it out as his banner. It will have a preamble, beaiing that the tariff laws are 
palpable, dehberate, and dangerous violations of the constitution. He will 
proceed, with his banner flying, to the custom house in Charleston, — 

" all the while 
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds.** 

Arrived at the custom house, he will tell the collector that he must collect no 
more duties under any of the tarift" laws. This he will bo somewhat puzzled 
to say) by the way, with a grave countenance, considering what hand South 
Carolina herself had in that of 1816. But, sir, the collector would, probably, 
not desist at his bidding. Here would ensue a pause ; for they say, that a cer- 
tain stillness precedes the tempest. Before this militar}' array should fall on 
custom house, collector, clerks, and all, it is very probable some of those com- 
posing it would request of their gallant commander-in-chief to be informed a 
httle upon the point of law ; for they have doubtless a just respect for his ojiin- 
ions as a lawyer, as well as for his bravery as a soldier. They know he has 
read Blackstone and the constitution, as well as Turenne and Vauban. They 
would ask him., therefore, something conceraing their lights in tliis matter. 
They would inquire whether it was not somewhat danger<^;is to resist a law of 
the United States. What would be the nature of theii' Dtlencc, they would 
wish to leani, if they, by mihtary force and array, resisted the execution in 



214 

Carolina of a law of the United States, and it should turn out, after all, that 
the law was constitutional. He would answer, of course, treason. No lawyer 
could give any other answer. John Fries, he would tell them, had learned 
that some yeai-s ago. How, then, they would ask, do you propose to defend 
us ? We are not afraid of ballets, but ti-eason has a way of taking people oflF 
that we do not much rehsh. How do you propose to defend us ? " Look at 
my floating banner," he would reply ; " see there the nullifying Imo !" Is it 
your opinion, gallant commander, they would then say, that if we should bo 
indicted for treason, that same floating banner of yours would make a good 
plea in bar 2 " South Carolina is a sovaign state," he would reply. That is 
tme ; but would the judge admit oui- pjlea ? " These tarifi" laws," he would 
repeat, " are unconstitutional, palpably, deliberately, dangerously." That all 
may be so ; but if the tribunals should not happen to be of that opinion, shall 
we swing for it? We are ready to die for our country, but it is rather an 
aAvkward business, this dying without touching the ground. After all, this is 
a son of hemp-iAx, worse than any part of the tarifll 

Mr. President, the honorable gentleman would be in a dilemma like that of 
another great general. He would have a knot before him which he could no* 
untie. lie must cut it with his sword. He must say to his followers, Defeni 
yom-selves with your bayonets ; and this is war — civil war. 

Dii-ect coflision, therefore, between force and force, is the imavoidable result 
of that remedy for the revision of unconstitutional laws which the gentleman 
contends for. It must happen in the very first case to which it is applied, 
fa not this the plain result? To resist, by force, the execution of a law, gen- 
erally, is treason. Can the courts of the United States take notice of the 
indulgence of a state to comnait treason ? The common saying, that a state 
cann(^ commit treason herself, is nothing to the purpose. Can it authorize 
others to do it ? If John Fries had produced an act of Pennsylvania, annul- 
ung the law of Congi-ess, would it have helped his case ? Talk about it as we 
will, these doctrines go the length of revolution. Thay aie incompatible with 
any peaceable administration of the government. They ]ead directly to dis- 
union and civil commotion ; and therefore it is, that at the commencement, 
when they are first found to be maintained by respectable men, and in a tangi- 
ble form, that I enter my public protest against them all. 

The -honorable gentleman argues, that if this government be the sole 
judge of the extent of its own powers, whether that right of judging be in 
Congress or the Supreme Com-t, it equally subveils, state soverenty. This 
the gentleman sees, or thinks he sees, although he cannot perceive how the 
right of judging in this matter, if left to the exercise of state legislatures, has 
any tendency to subvert the government of the Union. The gentleman's 
opinion may be that the right ought not to have been lodged with the gene- 
ral government ; he may like better such a constitution as we should have 
under the right of state interference ; but I ask him to meet me on the plain 
matter of fact — I ask him to meet me on the constitution itself — I ask him 
if the power is not there — clearly and visibly found there. 

But, sir, what is this danger, and what the grounds of it ? Let it be re- 
membered, that the constitution of the United States is not unalterable. It 
IS to continue in its present form no longer than the people who established 
it shall choose to continue it. If they shall become convinced that they have 
made an injudicious or inexpedient partition and distribution of power be- 
iw cen the state governments and the general government, they can alter that 
distribution at will. 



215 

K anytliiug be found m the national constitution, either by original prov- 
vieion or subsequent intei-pretation, which ought not to bo in it, the people 
know how to get rid of it. If any construction be established, unacceptable 
to them, so as to become, practically, n part of the constitution, they will 
amend it at their ovra sovereign pleasure. But while the people choose to 
maintain it as it is, while they are satisfied with it, and refuse to change it, 
who has given, or who can give, to the state legislatures a right to alter it, 
either by interference, construction, or otherwise ? Gentlemen do not seem to 
recollect that the people have any power to do anything for themselves; they 
imagine there is no safety for them any longer than they are under the 
close guardianship of the state legislatures. Sir, the people have not trusted 
then- safety, in regard to the general constitution, to these hands they have re- 
quu-ed other secm-ity, and taken other bonds. They have chosen to Irust 
themselves, first to the plain words of the instrument, and to such construction 
as the government itself, in doubtful cases, should put on its own powers, un- 
der theu- oaths of office, and subject to their responsibility to them ; just as 
the people of a state tnist their own state governments Avith a similar power. 
Secondly, they have reposed their trust in the efficacy of frequent elections, 
and in their own power to remove their own servants and agents, whenever 
they see cause. Thbdly, they have reposed trust in the judicial power, Avhich, 
in order th-at it might be trustworthy, they have made as respectable, as disin- 
terested, and as independent as practicable. Fourthly, they have seen fit to 
rely, in case of necessity, or high exjiediency, on their known and admitted 
power to altei- or amend the constitution, peaceably and quietly, whenever ex- 
perience shall point out defects or imperfections. And finally, the people of 
the United States have at no time, in no way, directly or indirectly, author- 
ized any state legislature to construe or intei-pret their instrument of govern- 
ment ; much less to interfere, by then- own power, to arrest its course and 
operation. 

If sh, the people, in these respects, had done otherwise than they have done, 
then- constitution could neither have been preseiTed, nor would it have been 
worth preserving. And if its plain pro\asion shall now be disregarded, and 
these new doctrines interpolated in it, it wiU become as feeble and helpless a 
being as enemies, whether eai-ly or more recent, could possibly desire. It will 
exist in every state, but as a poor dependant on state permission. IP must 
borrow leave to be, and will be, no longer than state pleasure, or state discre- 
tion, sees fit to gi'ant the indulgence, and to prolong its poor existence. 

But, sir, although there are fears, there are hopes also. The people have 
preserved this, their own chosen constitution, for forty years, and have seen 
their happiness, prosperity, and renown gi-ow with its growth and strengthen 
with its strength. They are now, generally, strongly attached to it. Over- 
thrown by direct a.ssault it cannot be; evaded, undermined, nullified, it will 
not be, if we, and those who shall succeed us here, as agents and representa- 
tives of the people, shall conscientiously and vigilantly discharge the two 
great branches of our pubHc tinist — faithfully to preserve and wisely to ad- 
minister it. 

Mr. President, I have thus stated the reasons of my dissent to the doctrines 
which have been advanced and maintained. I am conscious of having de- 
tained you, and the Senate, much too long. I was dra%yn into the debate 
with no previous deliberation such as is suited to the discussion of so grave 
and important a subject. But it is a subject of which my heart is full, and I 
have not been willing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous sentiments. 



216 

I cannot, even now, persuade myeelf to relinquish it, without expressing 
once more, my deep conviction, that since it respects nothing less than the 
union of the states, it is of most vital and essential importance to the public 
happiness. I profess, sir in my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in view 
the prosperity and honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our 
Federal Union. It is to that Union we owe our safety at home, and our con- 
sideration and dignity abroad. It is to that Union Ave are chiefly indebted 
for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That Union we reached 
only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had 
its origin in the necessites of disordered finance, prosti-ate commerce, and 
ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these gi-eat interests immediately 
awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of hfe. Every year 
of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings; and 
although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population 
spread ferther and farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. 
It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, personal happiness. 
I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might 
lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances 
of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken 
asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disun- 
ion, to see whethei', with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss 
below; nor could I regard him as a safe coimsellor in the affau-s of this 
government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how 
the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition 
of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the Union 
lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying jwospects spread out before us, for ua 
and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant 
that in my day at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that on my 
vision never may be opened what hes behind. ^When my eyes shall be turned 
to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on 
the broken and dishonored fragments of a once-glorious Union ; on states dis- 
severed, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, 
it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, 
rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored 
throughout the earth, still fuU high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming 
in^their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star 
obscured — bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What 
is all this worth? nor those other words of delusion and folly, Liherty Jirst, 
and Union afterwards; but every where, spread all over in characters of 
living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over 
the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentmient, dear 
to every true American heart — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one 
and inseparable ! 



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